Unexpected
by Rednic
Summary: The tables have turned on Joe Morelli when FBI special agent Marissa Carter comes to town. Now he's the one getting into trouble all over the Burg as they try to solve a homicide.  Warning:Contains explosive sexual tension and an uncharacteristic Joe.
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: Chapter 1**

_Disclaimer:_ Most of the characters in this story belong to Janet Evanovich and are used here without permission. No copyright infringement is intended.

Marissa Carter is my own fictional character.

**This is neither a Babe or Cupcake story. **

**Unexpected**

Ranger watched her; torn between relief that she was alive and anger that he hadn't been there to help her. Just like the Slayer incident with Steph…but this time he didn't feel like throwing up.

He watched as she argued with the nurse who was swabbing the cuts on the backs of her hands. She rolled her eyes when the nurse said something to her, and let out a heavy sigh. He pushed himself off the wall he was leaning against and made his way to her. She looked up and scanned the room nervously before she spotted him weaving through the crowd towards her.

Her eyes widen fractionally. Christ! Why was he here? She knew Tank would've called him, but she didn't expect that he would actually drive all the way down there. Trenton was a long way from Manhattan. She also knew it was useless to worry about his motives. When it came to Carlos it was best to go with the flow.

"Are you my ride?" she asked as she adjusted the paper gown hanging on her body like a sheet with arm holes.

"Ride?" Ranger asked. "You got authorization to leave?"

"I don't need anyone's authorization. I'm fine. Carlos…please." There was a hint of panic in her voice. She seemed on edge and an expected rush of sympathy for her rose up sharply in him.

The nurse finished up with her cuts and started to bandage her hand.

"I'm not taking you anywhere until I've talk to your doctor." he said.

"For what? He'll tell you exactly what I'm telling you. I'm fine." Marissa grounded out. "My x-rays show no broken bones or fractures, and my blood work came back clean. I don't know why everyone is making a big deal out of this."

"You got into a fight with a suspect. He threw you against a wall and kicked you in the stomach, that's a big deal."

Tank had been vague on the details when he had called him, and Ranger had been more interested in getting to the hospital than asking questions at that point.

Marissa shrugged. "I'm still not staying here. I need to get back to the office and take care of some things."

Ranger thought he had self-destructive tendencies, but it seemed he had nothing on her. He wanted to smash his fist through something; preferably the man who did this to her. He also wanted to shake some sense into her for being so damn nonchalant about her well-being. She turned her face to look at her bandaged hand, and he sucked in a breath at the angry red bruise running across her cheekbone.

"I think it's better if you stay here for the night." he said knowing fully well his words were falling on deaf ears. The last few hours had been hellish and exhausting, and as he drove from his Hayward office to Bellevue Hospital, just over the speed limit, he discovered new depths to his self-loathing.

He was supposed to be there with her. But Stephanie had needed him to help track down a skip that had the mental tendencies of The Joker, so he had sent Tank in his place. It was supposed to be a routine takedown, but somewhere between the flashbang and agency identification all hell had broken loose.

Her partner Bryan and Tank had filled him in on the details as they waited in the hall way for the doctor to finish his examination of her. They told him Marissa had been covering the backdoor when the suspect had leapt out an upper back bedroom window. She had yelled out her warning for him to freeze and identified herself, but he wasn't trying to hear that. Instead he took off over a neighbor's fence prompting Marissa to give chase. She had radioed in for backup, but by the time they had gotten there she and the suspect were in an all out brawl; with his 190lbs slamming into her 140lb. frame, and his size 11 cross-trainers connecting with her stomach. Ranger was not surprised when Tank had informed him that the suspect was being treated for a broken rib and head abrasions a few rooms down from Marissa's. Ranger had given him a questioning look, but Tank had just shrugged and said "Consequences of the takedown. All justifiable according to all the officers that were involved."

The Blue Wall of Silence was in full effect.

"I don't need to spend the night. I just want to get out of here." She swung her legs impatiently; her eyes were pleading. Someone else was going to have to tell her no. Where the hell was everyone else?

"Where's your partner?" he asked.

"Probably upstairs talking to the Special Agent in Charge. Waiting for me to be admitted for observation." Her lips curved up in a tiny smile. Ranger couldn't believe she could joke at a time like this.

"You win. Where are your clothes?" he asked.

The nurse glared at Ranger, but went to get the release forms. Tank walked into the room and handed Ranger a white object about the size and shape of a credit card. Even injured, Marissa didn't miss the exchange.

"What's that?" She nodded at the card.

"It's nothing." Ranger said and slipped the card back into his wallet.

She looked suspiciously at both men. "Are we going to play twenty questions here before I get a straight answer?"

Tank and Ranger looked at each other. Ranger spoke first. "It's an insurance card."

"Whose?"

"RangeMan's." Tank answered.

Her brow furrowed. "Whose name is on it?"

Silence from both men.

"Whose name is on it?" she repeated, her voice flat.

"Yours." Ranger answered.

He watched her struggle with her thoughts. Trying to analyze and understand. But the repercussions of what happened to her a few hours ago, and her mounting exhausting took away all coherent thought.

"I have an insurance card with RangeMan? Why?" Her eyes were glassy and unfocused.

"Like I said, it's nothing. Just makes things easier in a critical situation as Tank and I are your emergency contacts."

"When was I supposed to find out about this?"

He let out a sigh. "You weren't supposed to."

"Uh huh."

Tank looked uncomfortable. He knew how independent she was, and hated to be taken care of, but he and Ranger had made the decision to include her when they renewed RangeMan's health insurance policy a few years ago. It seemed logical at the time as they worked closely on the same cases, and on some occasions they were shoulder to shoulder during takedowns. Dangerous situations like that often warranted immediate medical attention if things went awry.

"We wanted you to have the best care." Tank stated.

She glared at him. "I have the best care. It's called the Federal Employees Health Benefits Program. It's what I pay fifty-five dollars out of my paycheck every month for."

"Mari..." Ranger started.

"No! I'm highly irritated by the fact that you guys would keep something like this from me. It's rude and highly unprofessional."

Tank looked at Ranger. "Did she just call us unprofessional?"

"Rude too." Ranger supplied as he nodded his head. "Seems like she's calling us out."

Marissa knew they were teasing her, but she still couldn't help the spike in her blood pressure. She narrowed her eyes. "Just so you two know, when I get back up to par I'm going to seek my revenge."

Ranger raised an eyebrow. "Are you threatening us?"

She squared her shoulders. "Scared?"

"Like we're gonna believe a pipsqueak like you." Tank said with a laugh and walked out the room.

The nurse came back in with the forms, and Ranger watched as Marissa struggled to sign the endless sheets of paperwork. Her bandaged hand made her mobility almost impossible. He wanted to take the pen and sign for her, but the nurse was glaring at him. It finally dawned on Ranger that she had cast him as the abusive boyfriend; Marissa's bruises and cuts reinforcing the idea. So he sat in the chair next to the bed and tried to be patient and not cause any trouble.

When Marissa went to change back into her street clothes, he left the room in search of Tank. He found him down the hall talking to a group of officers.

"How's she holding up?" Tank asked as they separated themselves from the crowd.

Ranger's lips tightened. "Being pig-headed as usual."

"She gave us quite a scare when we rolled up on her being stomped by Melendez. Of course, after we pulled him off her she still wanted to rip his eyeballs out. We didn't know how badly she was hurt until she collapsed as we were walking back to the car."

Ranger let out a frustrated sigh. "Her pride is going to get her killed one day."

Tank laughed. A humorless sound. "This coming from the man who walked into a situation knowing he was going to be shot."

Ranger shot him a look. "I did it to save Steph and Julie."

"How were you going to save them? By bleeding all over Scrog? Julie was the one who saved you."

A dark look passed over Ranger's face.

"Look man, all I'm saying is that Marissa was doing what she had to do. It sucked that she got roughed up in the process, but she's not some helpless female here. This is what she's trained and prepared for, so don't be too hard on her. "

Ranger rubbed his forehead in a frustrated gesture. He knew Tank was right, but he still couldn't shake the knot of agitation sitting uncomfortably in his stomach.

"I thought you would be used to situations like these by now, with all the situations Bomber has gotten herself mixed up in over the years." Tank said as he slapped him on the back.

Ranger scowled at him. "Yeah, it's like a walk in the fucking park by now."

Tank huffed out a sigh and shook his head. "Don't make me regret calling you RangeMan. She doesn't need a hard time right now. Are you going to drive her home, or should I?"

"I'll do it."

""I'm heading back to the hotel. Are you staying or leaving right after?"

"Staying. I have a few meetings tomorrow, but they don't start until early afternoon. I should have enough time to get back."

Tank nodded and left.

He walked back to Marissa's room to see if she was ready. She was waiting for him looking pale and weary. A nurse was readjusting her bandage, and Ranger wondered briefly if Marissa knew just how important she was to him. Finally, with a handful of prescriptions and detailed instructions on caring for her wounds they were on their way. As he helped her into his Mercedes he was unprepared when she flinched away.

"Marissa?"

She didn't answer him, but gingerly sank into the passenger seat and closed the door using her uninjured hand. It was a struggle for him to not raise his voice and demand to know why she had to do everything herself.

She fell asleep on the drive to her townhouse. Ranger killed the engine and came around to her side. He wondered if he could get away with carrying her inside, but he knew the chance for physical harm was high if she woke up disoriented and tried to kill him. He hated to wake her up though, but he was freezing his ass off in the frigid New York winter weather; his leather jacket doing nothing to shield him from the artic bite in the air.

"Wake up Mari. We're home." He grimaced slightly at the slip in his words, and was glad she was still asleep. He brushed his fingers along her cheek and her eyes fluttered open.

"Where are we?" she asked as she forced the sleep out of her eyes and looked around.

Recognition dawned on her and she unbuckled her seatbelt.

He held his hand out to her. "Come on. Let's get you inside."

He was relieved she didn't protest when he took her keys as she fumbled with the lock. He watched her closely when she swayed a little as she walked through the room.

"Go take a hot shower." he advised. He rattled the bottles of pills. "Where do you want these?"

"Kitchen."

He listened to the sounds of her starting the shower, and decided to rummage around in her kitchen cabinets with the intent of making her something to eat. He found a can of chicken noodle soup and a pack of unopened crackers. He opened a few more cupboards and found a small sauce pan and a porcelain bowl.

He heard her come out of the bathroom and shuffled her way into her bedroom. Taking the bowl of soup and crackers, he headed to where she had disappeared. She was facing him when he entered the room, and she got her shirt tugged down a second too late.

"Fuck." he breathed savagely.

"Don't start." she sighed.

He put the soup and crackers down on her nightstand and moved toward her. He put his hand on her shoulder and she froze. He whispered her name; his voice sounding alien and strangled to his ears. She couldn't meet his eyes. Didn't want to. The messages they projected in their too-long stares were clear even if she wasn't willing to deal with them. He sensed her uneasiness and tried to lighten the mood.

He smiled as he took in her pajamas.

"Hannah Montana?"

She was embarrassed. "They were on sale."

He chuckled. She looked young enough to be a fan. Her hair was pulled up in messy ponytail and her face was scrubbed clean of any traces of make-up. Her almond-eyes looked at him with trust and acceptance buried within their depth, and he fought the urge to lower his head and lose himself in her.

"And how do you know about Hannah Montana anyway?" she asked breaking into his thoughts.

"Julie's a fan. Her room is filled up with that stuff. Plus, she made me take her to a concert last summer."

Her eyes widened then sparkled with delight.

"Are you telling me the big badass known as Carlos Manoso went to a Hannah Montana concert?" She was clearly amused and grinning at him.

"I'm telling you nothing on account of I like you being alive."

She burst out laughing then, but her joy was short lived. "Ow! Ow! Ow!"

Her hand flew to her stomach.

"Let me see." he said as his fingers brushed down her sides to the hem of her shirt. Her breathing became fast and shallow, but she nodded in consent.

He lifted the shirt slowly, trying not to touch her skin because he didn't trust himself around her. He took a step back to get a better view and his mind stalled as he tried to evaluate the extent of the damage done to her.

A red and purple stain, about four inches in width, and long and oval in shape spread across her stomach like a plague on her skin.

"Mari...?" His voice shook. He couldn't finish the question. But she heard it anyway.

"It looks worse than it feels." she said as she hastily pulled her pajama top back down. She didn't want to see the pity or worry in his eyes. She didn't want to seem weak and needy. That was not who she was with him. She focused her attention on the food he brought her.

"I didn't know I had anything edible. I haven't been grocery shopping in weeks." she said as she moved past him and sat on the bed.

Ranger knew she was avoiding talking about the incident, and in a strange way he wanted to avoid it too. He was tired of feeling helpless and annoyed with himself. He sat on the bed next to her and focused on the grinning Miley Cyrus splayed across her chest.

Marissa sipped on her soup, grateful that she could hold the spoon without the bandage restricting her movement. She had taken it off before her shower, and was reluctant to put it back on. She glanced at Ranger. "I hope that look in your eyes is not what I think it is. I'm injured."

His wolf grin fell into place. "I could get around that."

She rolled her eyes.

He laid back on the bed; long legs dangling off the side. "I was actually wondering how far I would get before Chris Hansen busted in the room asking if I knew how old you really were."

Soup came spewing out her mouth and back into the bowl as she laughed.

"Oh God!" she moaned. "You're gonna have to leave if you intend to keep making me laugh like that." Her hand rubbed her stomach. "This is torture."

"Wasn't my intention. Do you want me to get your medication?"

She shook her head. "No drugs. They'll make me groggy. Can't fight crime if I'm high as a kite."

His lips tightened. "You're not supposed to be fighting anything. Why don't you request a couple of days off to recuperate?"

She shot him a terse look. "Is this advice you would recommend for yourself?"

He stayed silent.

"Thought so." she said as she put the bowl back on the nightstand.

His phone rang. "Yo."

He listened while silently mouthing _"Lester"_ to her.

"How did it go? Is she alright?" he asked.

Marissa busied herself with opening the pack of crackers; trying not to seem interested in his conversation. She knew who the _she_ was. Knew the depth of the emotional entanglement between him and the woman he was inquiring about. She knew too much. She suppressed a sigh and nibbled on a cracker.

Ranger glanced over at the woman on the bed with him. She looked exhausted and lost. Lester was giving him an update on apprehending the skip with Steph, but he was barely listening.

Lester asked him about Marissa's condition.

"She's pretending to be alright. Bullied me into taking her home. But I'm giving her fifteen more minutes before her charade falls apart."

Marissa smacked him on the arm playfully, and when he smiled at her she was glad he was there to ease her post-takedown misery.

He finished up with the call then punched a single key on his phone. He waited a few seconds before Stephanie's voice floated over the line. She greeted him in the customary way.

"Lester tells me you got your man with minimal effort."

He listened as she proudly told him about her night.

"Proud of you Babe." he said.

She then asked him why he handed her off to Lester.

"Had an emergency to take care of. Friend of mine got hurt."

Marissa squirmed uncomfortably on the bed. There was that "f" word again. She began to slide off the bed with the intent of going to the kitchen to get something to drink. She wanted to give him some privacy. He wasn't having it. His hand shot out and latched onto her wrist stopping her retreat.

Stephanie asked if his friend was going to be alright. He looked at Marissa's sullen face. "I hope so." he said then disconnected.

He didn't release his grip on her until she looked up at him. "Is she alright?"

Ranger raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you asking out of genuine concern or as an emotional stall tactic?"

"Does it matter?"

"To me? Yes."

Ranger could see her thinking carefully about her words, and could tell that many of them were rejected before they passed her lips.

"Um...thanks for coming...and driving me home...you didn't..."

"No need to thank me. I wanted to come."

She nodded and reached for the Ace bandage she had carelessly thrown on the bed. Ranger knew wrapping her wrist was beyond her. He took it and expertly encased it around her hand. She was not surprised that he was well-versed in attending to injuries; it was a skill he had learned back when he was in the Army. He held her hand loosely in his when he was finished, and frowned at her swollen and ravaged fingers.

His jaw clenched and his eyes flashed with anger, but his fingers stayed gentle as they traced the edge of the bandage against her knuckles.

"I swear to God, Mari, if you ever do anything like that again..." His voice was low and telegraphed threats and consequences. She'd seen flashes of his temper before, and he had turned it on her once or twice, but it was obvious now that they were glancing blows. Being the target of the full force of his anger triggered a panic response, and she pulled her hand away.

"I was doing my job." Her voice sounded like she was whining, and she hated that.

"There were other agents there doing their job also, but they all had backup with them. What the hell were you thinking?" he asked angrily as he stood up.

"Okay, don't do that."

He stared at her.

"Don't take your fear out on me. I'm a trained officer of the law. I know the protocols and risks, and I did call for backup. So don't try to make me feel reckless and selfish because I wasn't." She tried to keep her voice steady, but it broke a little at the end.

He shook his head and turned away. He dug his fingers into his hair in a frustrated gesture. He kept his hand on top of his head and she wondered if he realized the connotations of surrender that had for her with her FBI training. She almost laughed at that. Of course he did.

"I'm sorry I made you worry." she whispered.

Ranger turned back around slowly. He watched her; looking for something, and he felt like they spent half their lives staring at each other. He swallowed hard and dropped his hands. He looked away, focusing on a point just beyond her shoulder as he tried to order his thoughts. His anger drained away, and when he looked back at her all he felt was remorse.

"I should go. You need your rest." he said and turned towards the door.

Disappointment reeled through her, but she barely managed mask it by giving him a tight smile and nodding her head.

"I'll come by and check on you in the morning before I head back to Trenton."

"You don't...I mean...I'll be alright." her eyes dropped to her lap.

She heard him walk towards her. "Do you want me to stay?"

Yes. "No. It's okay. I'll be fine." She couldn't look him.

"Liar."

This time she looked up, but it was to glare at him. "I don't need a babysitter."

Ranger knew that beneath her bravado she was raw and hurting. They had an unorthodox kind of friendship; one uniquely suited to surviving the savage nature of their jobs, and blunting the sharp edges of reality no matter how fucked up the world got. He remembered why he long ago had concluded that she was very dangerous. She had a way of slipping past his defenses, and reminding him that underneath his mercenary façade he was still a man who had basic needs and emotions like the rest of the population. He got a high off of trading outrageous stories, and the meaningless flirting they fell into when they pretended they were like normal people.

She was his friend. No doubt one of his best friends. He wondered sometimes if that was all they would ever be. True, they had dabbled in the _more-than-friends_ path a while back when they had slept together. But time, distance, lack of communication and neglect of coming to terms with what happened had dulled the emotional impact between them. Plus, he was still in love with Stephanie. She had moved back in with Morelli, but that didn't stop him from poaching. Sometimes in the depths of her eyes, in the tone of her voice, in the occasional lingering touch, he thought there was a flicker of something deeper than friendship between them. She didn't resist him when he kissed her, and he was still the first person she called for help or to run an idea by. She fed his ego and made him feel invincible. Nothing like being someone's hero. It was addictive.

But the woman before him didn't need him to be a superhero. She didn't need him to offer a second opinion on a case she was working on, or go after fugitives on the FBI's Top Ten list, or even protect her out on the street. She didn't need him at all. But she wanted him. And being wanted was a complex aphrodisiac he found himself craving for the past few months.

He smiled at her. "I beg to differ when you're wearing those pajamas."

Her lips twitched. "You're gonna enjoy holding this over my head, aren't you?"

"Yes, I am. Especially when Tank sees the picture."

"Picture? What picture?"

He flipped open his phone and held it up to her. The audible snap of the image being captured momentarily stunned her.

"Carlos!"

She was a few seconds too slow when she leapt off the bed and lunged for the phone.

He laughed as he pushed the phone deep in his pockets. "I think that's going to be my screensaver from now on."

A stream of curse words filled the air around them as she threatened dismemberment and death.

He undid his gun belt, took off his jacket and slipped off his boots. He pulled back the comforter on her bed then tugged her down onto it.

"What are you doing? I thought you were leaving." she said, her voice rising slightly with panic.

"Change of plans." he said as he spooned her. Her back was instantly infused with hot, Cuban male.

One of his arms rested loosely on her hip, while the other was secured as a pillow underneath her head. Despite her injuries Marissa felt a shiver of desire run through her, and she bit down on her lip to keep from moaning out loud.

"You're too close." she said as she wiggled against him.

"You better stop moving like that otherwise I'll show you just how close I can get." he said in a low and husky voice against her ear.

She laid still, caught between wanting to call him on his threat but knowing that he was a man of his word.

A comfortable silence fell around them. It felt good to be held without awkwardness or complications.

"Are you staying the night?" Marissa asked. Hope lingered in her voice. He was her small bit of sanity in her chaotic world. She needed him to distract her from the dull pain her stomach was emitting, and her throbbing head and hand.

"Is that an invitation?"

"Why does that sound like entrapment?"

"Do you ever answer questions?"

"Do you?"

They both laughed at the rhetoric nature of their conversation.

"It feels good to laugh." Ranger said as their laughter died down.

God knew he hadn't done much of that lately. His life seemed to revolve around violence, scumbags, money, pent-up sexual frustration and guilt. Being carefree was a luxury not even he could afford. But here he was in a one bedroom apartment, in Long Island, having it handed to him freely. Amazing.

Marissa rubbed her stomach and groaned. "I wish I could say the same."

"You know, you could just take the painkillers."

She scrunched up her face. "I'll take my chances with the sleep."

"Would help if you were actually doing it."

She snorted. "It would help if I didn't have a sexy man wrapped around me."

He smiled. "So you think I'm sexy?"

"Uh uh...I'm not playing up your ego like that. God knows all the other women do it."

"Does that make you jealous?'

She let out a bark of laughter. "No. I don't have any claims on you like that."

His fingers drew small circles on hips. "So what is this? What's going on between us? A meaningless dalliance? What Mari?"

She turned around to face him. "If I wanted that, I would choose someone less complicated."

"I'm complicated?"

She shot him a pointed look.

"Are you willing to risk complicated?"

"I'm willing to dabble in it." She met his eyes squarely.

"You're a very brave woman."

She smiled. "I know."

"And modest too." he said as he smiled back. "Now go to sleep.

"Are you going to sleep too?"

"Eventually. I want to make sure Chris Hansen doesn't surprise me if I make any sudden moves on you while you're asleep."

The sound of her laughter and groaning filled the room once again.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: Chapter 2**

_Three days later..._

Marissa stared at the man before her refusing to believe what he was telling her.

"Okay Reggie, let me see if I got this straight. You were walking in the alley picking up cans when you saw two men jump out of a black SUV dressed as Winnie the Pooh and Kermit the Frog and kidnap this guy?"

"Yeah, yeah." Reggie confirmed as he nodded his head vigorously.

"Did you happen to get the make of vehicle they were in, or a license plate number?"

He seemed to think about this for a second. "It was big and black. One of them trucks them rappers be jumping out of. I ain't get no plate number on account of I was so surprised to see Pooh and Kermit in person. They're like my idols, you know?"

Marissa shot a glance at her partner, Bryan Anderson, who for the past ten minutes had a small smile permanently tattooed on his lips. He was clearly amused by this entire situation. Not that she blamed him. Reggie could be amusing at times, but he was a reliable confidential informant.

She had met Reggie a few years ago when she was with the Bureau only a few months. She had picked him up for interstate drug trafficking, during a sweep at a known hangout of a violent street gang called The Hell-Bound Crips who worked out of the South Bronx. During his interrogation with Marissa, and after she had listed out all the charges begin brought against him and the length of time he would have to serve for them, he had decided that it would have been in his best interest if he told her what he knew so that he could get a reduced sentence. His information had proven to be golden, and five of the forty-nine gang members they had picked up were found to be eligible for the death penalty. Now here he was telling her that Pooh Bear and Kermit the Frog had conducted a kidnapping. It didn't get any weirder than this.

"Have you been using any drugs Reggie?" she asked.

He shook his head.

"You sure?" she asked giving him a dubious look.

He held up his right hand. "I swear on my grandma Naynay's grave that I am clean."

Marissa huffed out a sigh and shook her head. She knew she had to keep on questioning him, just incase he did give her some vital information.

"Okay, so Pooh and Kermit grabbed the guy and then what?"

Reggie rubbed his chin. "Then they took off."

She gave him a disappointed look. "That doesn't help me. You said you had information for me on those bodies we found floating near Coney Island. Now you're telling me about Pooh and Kermit. I don't need this shit Reggie. I'm a busy woman, and you're wasting the FBI's time."

Reggie looked over at Bryan, who was leaning against their car. "Is she always like this?"

Bryan shrugged. "Only when you fuck with her. So I suggest you spill what you know. You think she got those bruises on her face by being patient with suspects and informants?"

Reggie peered at Marissa's face intently. The bruise on her cheek was almost gone, but there were still traces of black and purple around the edges. "That's gangsta."

Marissa rolled her eyes. She hated wasting valuable time. She had more leads lined up to check out.

"Look Reggie, if you think of anything else give me a call. You have my number." She turned and walked to the driver's side of the car.

"Man, you're one impatient lady. Just like my baby mammy Lushoda. You can't just rush a man to give you all the information at once. You gotta relax and just let it flow through him, right partner?" Reggie said as he winked at Bryan.

Marissa glared at Reggie. "I'm gonna give you five seconds to give me whatever information you have."

Reggie smiled at her. His gold fronts shining brightly in he late morning sun.

"Five." Marissa said.

"Sheeeeiiit. A man can't have no kinda fun with you can he? Okay. Fine. On the back glass of the SUV was the name of a funeral parlor. Mo Fook's Funeral Home."

"Are you sure?"

"Yes ma'am. I remembered it because it had a cartoon character dressed in a pimp suit giving a thumbs up. It looked like my uncle Daquan. He's a real snazzy dresser and always got lots of bitches around him. He'll like you. Maybe I can introduce you to him."

"Uhh...no." Marissa's mind was busy processing all the information. A vehicle belonging to a funeral home with Kermit and Pooh kidnappers. She shook her head. Only in New York. Her phone rang.

"Carter." she answered.

It was Burger's secretary Susan.

"The boss wants to see you." she said in her nasally Brooklyn accent.

"I'm out on the street."

"How long will it take you to get back?"

"Twenty, maybe thirty minutes. Is it serious?"

"Looks like it. They found another body."

A mixture of excitement and anxiety curled in Marissa's stomach.

"I'll be there as fast as I can."

She flipped the phone and stared at Bryan. "We've got to go."

He nodded and got in the car.

"Reggie, stay out of trouble and keep your eyes open for that SUV."

Reggie nodded. "What about Uncle Daquan? You still want me to hook you up?"

"No." Marissa said as she started the car.

Reggie shrugged. "Your loss."

Bryan sat next to her laughing as she pulled out into traffic. "I think you should go out with Uncle Daquan. He seems like a nice guy."

Marissa shot him a wry look. "I'll do it only if you go out with his aunt Quintesha."

"Is she hot?"

Marissa held back her smile. "Smoking."

"Then it's a deal. Hook it up."

"Did I mention she was a tranny?"

The sound of Marissa laughter boomed around the interior of the car.

Sitting in the Special Agent in Charge's office always made Marissa feel a little queasy. Maybe it was the floor to ceiling windows that gave the effect that she was suspended in mid-air, maybe it was the dark cherry furniture that gave the room an oppressive feel, or maybe it was the fact that nothing good ever happened when she was in there.

She sat in the straight-back chair waiting for the SAC to finish up with a phone call. Bryan sat next to her trying read a memo upside down that was perched at the top of Burger's desk. Burger ended the call and focused his attention on them. Michael Burger was a good boss. Fair, instinctual and charismatic, he embodied what every agent wished their SAC could be like. His only flaw was that once he got an idea in his head he expected everyone to follow his lead until he got the result he wanted. With sandy blond hair, steel grey eyes and a sturdy built his appearance commanded respect. Of course, the expensive suits he wore helped too, but even in plain clothes he projected the image of a man who was used to being in charge and getting what he wanted.

"Carter, how are you feeling?" Burger asked.

"Better." she answered simply. She was anxious to hear what he had wanted to tell them.

"Good. We have a new development. Just got word that another body was found floating in open waters. Same incision in the chest cavity, same amounts of drug packages found stuffed inside it."

"How long ago did they find it? Did they find it in Brooklyn again?" Marissa asked.

"No. This time it was found floating off the Newark-Elizabeth Marine Terminal. Port workers spotted it around 8:30 this morning."

Bryan and Marissa looked at each other.

"Male or female?" Bryan asked.

"Male. White. This time younger. Around 21-28. The other two were around 60-65."

"Are there any leads on the identification of the previous bodies?" Marissa asked.

Burger shook his head. "Still nothing. Medical Examiner is about to code them as John Doe's. It's been two weeks and no one has come forward to claim the bodies."

"Will the Strike Force be going out to claim this new cadaver?" Bryan asked.

The Strike Force a.k.a. the New York Organized Crime Drug Enforcement "Strike Force" comprised of agents and officers of the DEA, the NYPD, the IRS, the Department of Homeland Security Bureau of Immigration and Customs Enforcement, the FBI, the New York State Police, the United States Marshals Service, the United States Secret Service and the ATF.

The Force was partially funded by the New York/New Jersey High Intensity Drug Trafficking Area, which was a federally funded crime fighting initiative established by The White House Office of National Drug Control Policy.

Burger shook his head. "The Strike Force is already clamoring to get new leads of the bodies we found here, and with the federal budget cuts we can't spare too many bodies to carry out the investigation in New Jersey. So, that's where you two come in."

Marissa and Bryan exchanged curious looks.

"You two will be going out there for the rest of the week to collect and document all viable evidence. You'll be working with the Trenton Police Department and the Newark FBI Field office. Agent Carter I know this won't be your first time working with them, and that's why you were picked for this."

Trenton. The named swirled around Marissa's head. Trenton was where Carlos was. She hadn't seen him since the morning after her hospital visit. That was days ago. He hadn't called her since he'd left and she hadn't called either. They were doing what they did best; pretending everything was alright and going on with their lives. Now she was heading directly to him. In his town...in his space. Holy shit! In his world with Steph. There went her plan to avoid him for the next few months. She was sure she couldn't move an inch in Trenton and him not finding out about it. Unbelievable.

"Who will we be working with while we're there?" Marissa asked more to distract herself from thinking about Ranger.

Burger looked down at a notepad on his desk.

"A detective named Morelli."

"Joseph Morelli?" Marissa asked hopefully.

"Yeah. You know him?"

"We met briefly when we worked on the Tom Jackson case a few years ago."

"Excellent. You two leave right away. Go home, pack an overnight bag, and then make your way down there. Susan has made reservations at the Trenton Marriott for you two. Morelli will come to the hotel to meet you. Here's his cell phone number and the Newark case agent's number."

Marissa took the post-it with the information, and she and Bryan headed out the office.

"How well do you know this Morelli?" Bryan asked as they got on the elevator.

She smiled. "I got drunk with him one night and sat on his lap."

Bryan smiled back. "And here I thought we were going to have no fun in Trenton."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Chapter 3**

Joe Morelli was not a happy man. In the past few hours his day had gone from trying to get through it to utterly disgusting. Even he had been surprised at how crappy his day had turned out to be. But if there was one thing he'd learned from being a cop, it was that the word "satisfaction" was never to be used to describe anything pertaining to his job. Captain Targa had called him into his office as he was on his way out to check up on a lead. Targa was seated behind his desk when Joe had walked in. He gestured for him to sit down.

"I'm sure you heard about the eviscerated body found floating near the Elizabeth Port this morning." Targa had started by way of greeting.

Joe nodded. "I heard."

"It seemed two weeks ago three bodies with the same type of injuries were found floating in waters off of the coast near Brooklyn."

Joe nodded gain. "I read it in the paper." Where was Targa going with this?

"Then you'd also know that the Strike Force has been investigating this since the bodies were packed with drugs. Because of this new development at the port, the FBI is sending two of their agents down here to collect evidence, and evaluate the possibilities that this new corpse is linked to the ones they found in New York."

"And you're telling me this because?"

Targa gave him a tight smile. "You're going to be their liaison."

"S'cuse me?" This was so not fucking happening, Joe thought.

"The TPD and the FBI Newark Field office are working closely on this case, and since you're one of my best detectives we have on hand I nominated you to represent the department."

Joe stared stoically at him. "Captain, no disrespect, but you want me to be a fucking babysitter to these feds? You've got to be kidding me."

Targa had expected this reaction. "Look Morelli, I know this is not how you thought your day was going to be spent, and I would prefer that you were out on the street, but Juniak insists that we show the feds that we're a competent and efficient department. This is all purely bureaucratical mind you. But in order for Juniak to get us the funding we need to run this department for the next budget year, all of us are stuck with doing crap-ass jobs from time to time."

Joe's head dropped dejectedly to his chest and he huffed out a dramatic sigh. "What about Rupp? He loves this kind of thing."

Targa was not in the mood to be swayed. "Arnie has enough on his plate right now with the rise in the homicide rates these past few months."

Joe shook his head. "What about..."

"No." Targa interjected sharply. "And that's the end of this discussion. You're the primary on this assignment and that's final. It's not a request Morelli, it's an order."

"Shit!" Joe breathed. There went his whole fucking day. "How long are they going to be here?"

"Until the end of the week."

Joe grimaced. That was four days away. Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!

"Who's going to take over my cases? I have informants and leads to follow up on."

Targa sighed. "Why are you busting my balls Morelli?" He handed him a post-it. "Here are the names of the agents. They'll be staying at the Marriott. Their phone numbers are on there. They should get there in the next forty-five minutes."

Joe looked at the paper. Agent Carter and Agent Anderson. He was sure they were Agent Pain-in-the-Asses too.

Targa picked up a file folder and opened it. "Get out of my office Morelli. I've got enough on my plate to sit here and listen to you whine."

"But..."

"Out!"

When he came out Phil Pancheck was leaning against his desk, trying to hide his smirk behind his coffee mug.

"Well, well, Morelli. Looks like you got the babysitting job. Good luck with that."

Joe gave him his favorite Italian one fingered salute as he stomped toward his desk on the far side of the room.

"Tsk, tsk. Such a bad temper." Pancheck said. "Clearly indicative of a man who hasn't been laid in months."

Brian Simon came bustling towards the photocopying machine. "What's going on?"

"Our boy Morelli here got saddle-bagged with the feds daycare position." Pancheck said with a grin.

Brian shot a sympathetic look at Joe, then turned to Pancheck and they both busted out in raucous laughter.

"Wait, you fuckers knew they were looking for someone to hang this shit on?" Joe seethed as he violently pulled an accordion file from his desk drawer.

More laughter.

"Of course we knew." Brian said as his laughter died down. "How'd you think you got picked for the job? We all nominated you."

At that moment Joe wished he had Grandma Bella's eye. But then again, maybe it ran in the family. He squinted menacingly at Pancheck and Simon. Nothing. Great. He could just add this to the list of things on his already messed up day. He took a deep breath and tried to get his anger under control. Why was he even riled up about this? It wasn't like the feds would need him for the entire time they were there. All he had to do was drive them to the crime scene, let them document and fiddle with whatever they wanted, answer random questions and then drop them off again. Easy.

A harsh chuckle erupted from him. Maybe Pancheck was right. Maybe all he needed was to get laid to stop stressing out like this. Since he and Stephanie had broken up a couple of months ago, he had thrown himself into working every possible homicide he could get in on as a way of distracting himself from thinking about her. This however had proven to be a catch-22, as she was usually linked to some of the homicides he had gotten called in to investigate. Leave it to Steph to find a dead body without even trying. She was a magnet for these occurrences. The woman had a strange gift. She also had a gift of attracting psychos.

The most dangerous and persistent one being Carlos "Ranger" Manoso. The man was a nut case. With his black cars, black clothes and dark persona, he irked Joe in more ways than one. He was also one of the reasons he and Stephanie had broken up. Not like Joe couldn't see the break-up coming. He and Steph had been fighting constantly the weeks prior to them going their separate ways. It was the same ole fight, with the same ole arguments and the same ole man in the middle of it all.

Joe knew that there was more going on between them than just bounty hunters working together. And for a while he was willing to accept the fact that she needed Ranger in some twisted, relevant way. But as time went on the lingering touches, late nights and amative stares left Joe feeling like there was more between them than they showed in public. It began to eat away at him. He began to question everything she told him, her whereabouts, even her absences. They were heading down a destructive path that came to a head the night she came to his house, after a distraction job with Ranger, without her underwear and kiss-swollen lips.

Joe never knew his anger could reach such limits. And after a screaming match, which was probably heard from Trenton to Philadelphia, Joe knew that he could no longer stay with Stephanie without losing a part of himself along with his sanity. He loved her, and he knew that she loved him. But they weren't good for each other. Their unhealthy relationship pattern was taking a toll on both of them. When all was said and done, Joe offered to look like the bad guy and take the blame for ending the relationship. He couldn't let Steph be subjected to Burg gossip and her mother's disappointment. She had gone through enough with Dickie. So he kissed her on the cheek, told her he would always love her, picked up the shards of his heart and went to a bar.

The alcohol dulled his senses, but not his pain. And when he stumbled home later that night and found Steph's laundry basket gone, reality came crashing violently into him. He had called out sick to work for two days and wallowed in his self-pity. On the third day Carl Costanza came knocking on his door. He took one look at Joe, shook his head and ordered him to go take a shower and shave. Joe was in no mood to have someone telling him what to do, and he told Carl this with a string of curse words mixed in.

"Contrary to the gossip going around the Burg right now Morelli, I don't believe you were the asshole everyone is saying you are. If you were, you wouldn't be looking like a piece of shit right now."

Joe glared at him.

Carl just stared back at him, and then whipped out his cell phone.

"Go take the fucking shower or else I'm calling your mother and telling her to come over here."

They stood glaring at each other before Joe finally turned and made his way upstairs to the bathroom. Twenty minutes later, dressed in jeans and a t-shirt, he came down to find Gus Chianni, his friend and drinking buddy, sitting in his living room watching ESPN Sports News with Carl.

"What the fuck is this?" Joe hissed.

"We're just here to make sure you don't go back to Joe Morelli, Pathetic Asshole." Gus said. "We're hoping you're better than that. So we're gonna stick around, call in for some Chinese food, and saturate your mind with stories about our own sad and pathetic woman tales."

Joe was touched. His boys had come through for him. He sat down on the couch next to Gus and reveled in the companionship. Four hours later, when Gus and Carl walked out his front door, Joe was feeling almost like his old self again. He went back to work the next day, prepared to close at least one of his open cases, but ending up fielding calls from his mother, Grandma Bella, Stephanie's mother and a string of cousins who'd heard the news. He didn't think anything could be worse than that, until now.

He looked at the post-it again. Carter and Anderson. Even their names sounded snotty. His experience with the feds was one based on professional advocacy. They knew they were the lead agency and their attitudes portrayed it. This had often led to the local police feeling more like intruders than partners in the legal process. He stuffed the post-it in his back pocket and looked at his watch. He had twenty minutes to get to the hotel. Just enough time to stop off and get some lunch, or maybe a stiff drink. But he knew either one was not going to be enough to get him through the rest of the day.

Marissa opened her hotel room door and came face to face with a weary looking, disturbingly sexy, Joe Morelli.

"Morelli? Is that you? My God you look fantastic." She broke out in a smile.

Joe stared at the woman before him. "Marissa Carter? What the hell?" He hadn't seen her since she fell in his lap at the Sly Dog Bar three years ago. She was the _"Agent Carter"_? Nice.

He barely had time to react when she threw her arms around him and gave him a tight hug.

"When I found out we were going to be working together I practically ran out the office." she said as she pulled back.

Joe smiled and let the compliment wash over him. "You look different."

"It's the hair." Marissa said as she ran a hand over her straight, shoulder-length hair. "The last time you saw me I had a head full of curls."

"Why the change?"

"I did an undercover job a while back and had to switch up my look. I like it though. Less time consuming, and easier to pile into a messy bun when I'm running late for work."

"It looks good on you."

She smiled at him "Thanks."

He noticed the faint bruise across her cheek and frowned. "What happened to your face?"

"Work."

A door opened across the hall and a tall, lightly tanned, dark-haired man stood in the doorway assessing Joe with hard, grey eyes.

"Joe Morelli I'd like you to meet my partner Bryan Anderson."

Bryan walked over with his hand extended. "Nice to meet you." He clasped Joe's hand in a firm handshake. "My partner talked about you the whole way here."

"Anything good?" Joe asked.

"Not really. Just her usual antagonistic view on the male species."

Marissa gasped. "Pay him no attention Morelli. I happen to like men still, even if I've got a partner like this."

Joe felt at ease in the small group they made outside Marissa's hotel room door. He had resigned himself to thinking that the next few days were going to be filled with exasperating moments. But now, knowing that he would be working with Marissa and her partner eased some of the tension out of him.

He liked her. She was easy going, funny, intelligent, and from what he could tell by her khaki-colored cargos and blue FBI polo shirt, she still filled out clothes in all the right places.

Marissa was trying to get over the fact, that the handsomely intriguing man that was standing in front of her was the Joseph Morelli she had met a few years ago. She had thought he was cute back then, and had mildly flirted with him when they shared a desk during a joint task force operation. But the man before her now had an air about him that suggested he could do a woman a lot of good...for hours on end. But it wasn't his tall, muscular body that unnerved her and made her belly tighten with phantom anticipation, nor was it his handsome face that encapsulated his good Italian genes. No, it wasn't any of those things. It was his eyes. When she had opened the door they were hooded and weary, and filled with suspicion. Then, when he recognized her, they had melted into warm, inviting pools of chocolate brown. In her experience as an agent people's eyes told the story of their lives, and what she had read in Joe's eyes had her trying to tamp down the sliver of arousal that zinged through her when she had hugged him. She shook her head. What was she thinking? She wasn't here for that. She was here to work. She was here to do her job, because there were other people relying on her information in order to do their job. It was bad enough she was in Carlos' town. Shit! She smacked her hand against her head. She had forgotten to tell him she was coming.

"Something wrong?" Joe asked as he frowned at her.

"I forgot to call someone." She looked at her watch. She would have to do it from the car.

"You guys ready?" Joe asked.

"Let me just grab my purse." Marissa said as she disappeared into her room.

Bryan turned to Joe. "Not to distract from what we're here to do, but where are all the good strip clubs here?"

Joe laughed. He liked Bryan. He could tell that he was protective of Marissa, and exuded an invisible, lethal air about him. Joe knew military when he saw it, and Bryan Anderson was wearing it well.

"Domino's on Third Street is pretty good." Joe offered.

"You go there a lot?"

"Not lately. But I'm due." Boy was he due.

Marissa emerged at the door with her coat and handbag. "Let's go." she said as she pulled the door closed behind her.

"Where to?" Joe asked as they walked to the elevator.

"The Medical Examiner's Office. I want to take a look at the body. Plus Bruno Wolf, from the Newark Field Office is meeting us there. He's going to update us on the DEA report."

"Great." Bryan said as he pushed the button to the Lobby. "Nothing like looking over an organless corpse on a Monday afternoon."

"Quit your whining Anderson." Marissa said as they piled into the elevator. "It was all you could talk about on the drive down here."

"See? I knew you weren't paying attention. I was telling you about the pantyless secretary that just started on the twenty-sixth floor."

"Are you sure? Cause I swore you said something about her being lifeless at one point."

The elevator doors swished open and they walked out to the exit.

Bryan shook his head, and then sighed dramatically. "I was telling you about her state after I got done putting The Beast on her. And the word I used was _boneless_."

Joe looked at Marissa for clarification.

"The Beast is his dick. And since I've never seen it, or plan on seeing it I can't confirm that it is or isn't a beast. All I know is that one day it might just fall off in the toilet when he goes to pee in the morning."

Joe chuckled. These two were walking comedy.

"Don't jinx it Carter. It's not my fault you have penis envy." Bryan said.

"Trust me when I say Anderson that when it comes to your penis envy is not the word I think about."

Joe held the glass door opened for Marissa. "What word would you use?"

"Any word from the medical dictionary listed under STDs." she answered as she brushed by him.

Yep, Joe thought as a smile broke out on his face, this week wasn't going to be so bad after all.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4: Chapter 4**

Death was nothing new to Marissa. She'd stood over lifeless bodies more times than she could count. The smell of decaying flesh no longer made her want to throw up. Instead a rush of morbid curiosity always filled her, leaving her brimming with questions and an insatiable need to find out who or what killed the victim.

As she stood in the Medical Examiners' Autopsy Room with Bryan, Joe and Bruno Wolf, from the Newark Field Office - their face masks firmly plastered to their faces, she wondered what internal dialog went through each of the men's minds, as they stood looking into the hollowed out cavity of what used to be a living person. Were they asking themselves who he was? Did he have a family? What was his name? How did he end up eviscerated and packed with bags of heroine and Ecstasy? Or were they caught up in personal thoughts?

The Medical Examiner, Dr. Frank Watson, moved to the head of the table and pulled Marissa from her thoughts. He was a middle-aged man with a round body that hinted at one too many late night meals, and a little too much alcohol in his diet. But then again, if she had his job she would be drinking too, Marissa thought. All this death was depressing. She watched as he bent his graying head over the body and opened up the corpse's mouth. He shined a flashlight in it and made a _"hmmm"_ sound and closed the mouth. He moved to a small desk at the corner of the room and wrote something on a sheet of paper attached to a clipboard.

Marissa followed his movements intently. In autopsy speak _"hmmm"_ meant that something was interesting. And interesting sometimes turned up clues and leads. She was hoping he would _"hmmm"_ some more. She had to get her hands on the autopsy report before Dr. Watson turned it over to the Strike Force. The earlier she knew, the more time she had to act.

She looked across the table at Joe. He met her gaze and he gave her a wink. She smiled a small smile behind her mask. He seemed at eased with his arms folded across his muscular chest, and his stance wide-legged. His carriage was one of a man used to seeing death in all forms, and accepting it for what it was. Bruno Wolf cleared his throat nervously. He was new to the FBI. A rookie who was a transplant from the Ohio Bureau. At six feet with broad shoulders and a tall, lean built, his dark brown hair gelled and styled to perfection, he embodied what a G-man should look like. Only thing was this G-man looked like he was about to crash to the floor. His already pale pallor seemed to be turning grey, and beads of sweat dotted his forehead. He nervously adjusted his tie on his one-size-too-big black suit, and cleared his throat again. Marissa wondered if she should send him out the room to get his stomach under control. She guessed in Ohio mutilated corpses weren't an everyday occurrence. Poor Bruno.

Bryan was frowning at the corpse. She knew that frown. That frown only appeared when he was thinking about getting into trouble and weighing the consequences, or had a theory about something but wasn't sure how to word it. She was hoping it was the latter.

"You see something?" she asked hopefully.

Bryan pointed his index finger at the body. "See how the incision was made. It's more T-shaped." He waved his finger from side to side over the corpse's shoulders. "The previous bodies all had single vertical cuts."

"What are you thinking?" Marissa asked.

"This type of incision is used more at funeral parlors and morgues. It produces a more aesthetic finish to the body when it's re-constituted, as the stitching marks would not be as apparent as with a Y-shaped incision."

"So you're saying this body could have come from a funeral home or morgue?" Joe asked.

Bryan nodded. "Or whoever did this had some medical training or worked in an environment that specialized in the dead."

"Creepy." Marissa murmured.

Bruno coughed nervously again and seemed to be sweating even more.

"Hey Wolf, can you go get the DEA report from Dr. Watson's assistant down the hall?" Marissa asked.

Bruno looked slightly relieved, and wasted no time exiting the room.

"He's new, isn't he?" Joe asked with a hint of amusement dancing in his eyes.

"Whatever made you think that?' Bryan asked with a grin.

Joe shrugged. "I think it was the dry heaving that gave him away."

"Nothing seeing six more dead bodies can't get rid of." Marissa interjected. "Then he can be as jaded about death as we are."

"You're not afraid of death?" Joe asked pinning her with his warm, brown gaze.

She stared back at him. "Some days Morelli I run straight to it."

"Isn't she Miss Sunshine?" Bryan said. "Hopefully she can stay out of trouble while we're here. She's been on a destructive path lately."

Joe cocked an eyebrow at her. "Sounds like you've been a bad girl Agent Carter."

Marissa took her mask off and tossed it in the medial waste bin.

"Only when my clothes are off Detective Morelli." she tossed over her shoulder before walking out the room.

When they left the ME's office in Joe's SUV, Marissa called Ranger. The call went straight to voicemail. Not that she minded. Less questions for her to answer. Less annoying emotions to squelch down. Less reasons for her to have to see him while she was there. She left him a quick message telling him that she was in Trenton for a few days investigating a case, and she would talk to him later.

"You keep in touch with Ranger like that?' Joe asked as he stole a glance at her before turning his eyes back to the road.

Uh oh. She gave a quick glance at Bryan who was seated in the back. He waggled his eyebrows at her. She was clearly on her own.

"A little. We've worked together a few times over the years." she answered.

"How much is a few times?'

"Is this Joe Morelli asking or Detective Morelli?"

"Does it matter?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On your Ranger tolerance these days."

He shot her a look.

"He was never your favorite person, even when we were on the Jackson case years ago. So don't even try to pretend now."

"Who's pretending? And my tolerance is just fine." he all but snapped.

Marissa raised an eyebrow at him. "Your tone suggests otherwise."

Joe grimaced. "I've just been a bit stressed out lately. Job-wise and personally. My girlfriend and I broke up a few months ago.

"Oh? What happened?"

Joe's lips tightened and his knuckles turned white as his grip on the steering wheel strengthened. "Let's just say I opened my eyes to the truth."

"Sounds deep." Bryan said from the back.

"Definitely." Marissa said. "Does she live around here?"

Joe nodded. "Steph and I grew up together in this neighborhood. Our families still live around here too."

"Must be hard though to see each other around after that." she said empathically.

"We make the best of the situation."

"Wait, you said her name is Steph?" Marissa asked as her brow furrowed.

Joe nodded. "Stephanie Plum. She's a bounty hunter. Do you know her?"

More than you know, Marissa thought. "I don't know her, but I've heard about her."

"Let me guess, from Ranger, right?" Joe said with a hint of disgust.

Marissa sensed she was on highly emotional ground, and decided that it was best not to make him mad as she needed him in order to bring closure to the case.

"Actually no. I read about her in the paper awhile back. They call her the Bombshell Bounty Hunter, right?"

"I remember reading that article. She's hot." Bryan said from the back seat.

Joe sent a glare via the rearview mirror to him.

"I bet you've been having a lot of rebound sex." Bryan said with a grin.

Joe laughed almost maniacally. "You would think, huh? But I'm giving myself time."

"Time for what?" Bryan asked clearly confused.

Marissa turned around and shot a chagrined look at Bryan. "Time to heal over the break-up."

Bryan made a disgusted sound. "That's a woman thing. Men are not genetically wired like that. You break up with a woman, maybe wallow in sadness for an hour then you go get drunk off your ass, find some random, willing woman to take home, then you screw the pain away."

Marissa shook her head. "See what I've been telling you? Any day now. Listen to your scanner for a dick floating in the toilet."

They decided to go to the hotel restaurant for an early dinner. There weren't a lot of diners there yet, just an older couple and a family of two adults and three young kids.

"Order anything you want." Marissa told Joe. "Compliments of the FBI."

As they waited for their food, they talked about the case.

"So let me get this straight." Joe started. "Three floaters were found near Coney Island. Organs removed and the cavity stuffed with drugs. No id's on who they are. No missing persons' flags. No matches on fingerprints in the IAFIS database. No dental records."

Bryan and Marissa nodded.

"Sounds like illegal immigrants to me."

"We think so too. And I'm sure when we run the fingerprints of this latest victim we'll come up with the same thing." Marissa said.

"Any possible leads?" Joe asked.

"Nothing concrete yet." Bryan offered. "We're running down a few leads, and we have an informant that's checking on some things for us."

"But it's common knowledge in New York that the Chinese, Turks, Nigerians and a small group of Russians are the primary dealers in these drugs." Marissa said. "But in these hard times the Cartels aren't loyal to any one drug. They're not in it because they like heroin or Ecstasy. They like money."

Bryan nodded. "The part that's puzzling us is the fact that all the bodies are Caucasian, and all are unidentifiable. Which makes you wonder who these people were and where did they come from. There are no marks of violence on the bodies, except for the incision, so that makes me think that either these people were killed while they were incapacitated, or were already dead when they were eviscerated. The question here is what killed them."

"Did you guys check with the Coast Guard to see if any strange vessels were picked up the night, or days before the bodies were found? Were there any red flags on manifests at the ports? Containers missing, short loads?"

"We sure did." Marissa said. "The thing is corpses don't travel long distances well. Decomposition sets at the time of death. So if this entity was using cadavers as drug mules, it would seem logical that the pick-up location wouldn't be far away."

"But why use dead bodies in the first place?" Joe asked.

Marissa shrugged. "Which would you follow Morelli? A suspicious male or female in a car traveling across state lines, or a hearse traveling across state lines?"

"Point. But how did the bodies end up in the water?"

"That the million dollar question isn't it?" Bryan said with his trademark cynical grin in place.

The waiter arrived with their food and all conversation stopped. Half-way through their meal Marissa's cell phone rang. She looked at the display and excused herself and went out into the Lobby.

"Hello Carlos." she answered with a smile.

"Why didn't you call me sooner? If I'd known I would've had a room ready for you at RangeMan."

She let the sound of his voice wash over her. She had missed him, and from the way he was sounding he had missed her too...she hoped.

"Not necessary. We're being well-taken care of by the Bureau."

"This is work related?"

"Sure is. I'm sure you heard about the floater at the port."

"I did. You got stuck with it?"

"I was already in it. There were three others like this one in New York. We think they're related. Not quite sure how yet."

"We?" Ranger asked.

"Bryan and I...and Morelli."

There was silence on the other end of the phone, and Marissa imagined he was taking a calming breath, then, "Morelli? What dark force made that happen?"

"Part of a Joint Task Force. Bryan and I are just here as observers for the New York unit. Trenton Police offered Morelli as a...show of good faith."

"Sounds like bureaucratic bullshit."

"By the bowlful."

"Will I get to see you before you head back?"

"I hope so."

"When should I expect you?"

"In an hour or two. I need to get some supplies for an endeavor I have planned for tonight. Morelli will be with us." she said.

"I'll let the guys know to expect you. Tell Morelli to park in the garage. I'll be on the fifth floor." Ranger said.

"Got it."

"He's a good cop, Mari try not to get him into too much trouble."

"What is that supposed to mean?"

"Let's just say that your justice methods are not always found in the FBI rule book."

"Sure they are. You just have to know how to interpret them."

"Mari."

She huffed out a dramatic sigh. "Okay. Fine. I'll try not to get him into too much trouble."

Ranger chuckled. "Not what I wanted you to say, but knowing you like I do I guess it'll count as something. How are you feeling?"

His voice got softer and made the moment seem more intimate.

"Better. No more rough play for me for a while."

He laughed. "Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you're always trying to ruin my sterling reputation." she said with a smile.

"It's not your reputation I want to ruin." he countered.

Damn.

By the time Marissa got back to the table her hamburger and fries were cold.

"Making plans with the boyfriend?" Bryan asked as he popped a fry into his mouth.

"He's not my boyfriend." Marissa said as she picked up the mass of bread and well-done ground beef and took a huge bite.

"Uh huh."

"Is he talking about Ranger?" Joe asked with a mouthful of roast beef.

Bryan nodded.

"We're friends." Marissa said. "End of subject."

Joe was frowning at her.

"What?"

"You and Ranger? Seriously?"

She rolled her eyes. "Can we focus here? We need to get back in the ME's office tonight. I need to take a better look at the body."

"Do you need me to make a call?" Joe asked before taking another big bite out of his sandwich.

"For what?"

"So they can have the body ready for us."

"We don't need them to have anything ready for us. We know where it is. In the freezer."

"So you just want to show up there unannounced. That's not how the procedure goes. You have to make an appointment." Joe stated.

Bryan and Marissa looked at each other. "We know." they said in unison.

Joe looked back and forth at both of them. Then realization crashed into him. "Christ! You want to break in?"

"Shhhh!" Marissa admonished as she looked around the room cautiously.

Joe's lips tightened. "I'm not helping you break into the ME's office. If they catch us that could mean thirty days on the street without pay for me."

"Then they won't catch us." Bryan said with a nonchalant shrug of his shoulder.

"I'm not doing it." Joe said adamantly. "You two are on your own. For Christ's sake, you guys are FBI. You can get into any place you want."

"Yes, but that would require us signing things, and going to specific departments, and working around other peoples' schedules. We kinda like going where we want and when we want. Takes much less time too when you're not busy filling out paperwork."

"I'm beginning to think you two are not FBI." Joe said looking at them with cop's eyes.

Marissa gave him a pointed look. "Morelli what were you told by your captain about this job?"

"I was told I would be a liaison between the two departments." he answered sullenly.

"And isn't a liaison a job or person that links two or more specialties?" Marissa continued.

Joe narrowed his eyes at her. "I don't like where this is going."

"Is it or isn't it?" she asked tersely.

Joe huffed out a frustrated sigh. "It is."

"Well then _liaison,_ I suggest you help link our specialty of sneaking around places we're not supposed to be in, with your specialty of being a skillful and intuitive detective."

Joe narrowed his eyes at her. "Flattery will get you nowhere."

"Yeah, but your SUV can." she replied with a smile.

Joe pressed his lips together to keep his annoyance in check. He knew they were going to go ahead and do it with or without him. At least if he was there he could make sure they didn't get into too much trouble.

"Fine. But if I lose my pension you're the one going to be taking care of me when I'm eighty and wearing diapers."

Marissa smiled at him. "I won't let that happen. I'd smother you with a pillow first."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter 5: Chapter 5**

"We need to make a stop at RangeMan before we go over to the ME." Marissa said as they climbed back into Joe's SUV after dinner.

Joe shot her a pointed look. "Why?"

"What's with the questioning?" Marissa asked. "I thought your tolerance was fine."

"It is. But I should tell you that the ex-girlfriend works there."

Years of schooling her features into one of indifference kept the look of surprise off Marissa's face. Carlos never mentioned that. She knew they worked together. But this was on a whole other level. Very interesting.

"You could stay in the car. I just have to pick up a few things. We won't be there long." Marissa offered.

Joe smirked. "And miss seeing the look on Steph's face when I walk in there with you guys? She's going to keel over with curiosity."

"Are you planning on using us to exact some sort of cheap revenge on your ex?" Bryan asked as he buckled his seatbelt.

"Yep."

Marissa smiled. "Let the fun begin then."

As soon as they pulled up to the RangeMan building the garage doors opened.

"I see someone was expecting us." Bryan said. "And here I was looking forward to using my newest fake name in the Visitor's Logbook."

Joe turned to Marissa. "Is he always like this?"

"Worse. He's behaving today."

Joe parked in one of the empty slots a few feet from the elevator and looked around. "Well this is disappointing. I was expecting a welcoming committee with guns."

"Maybe he saves that for the drug dealers, mob henchmen and the occasional lunatic." Marissa teased as she hopped out the vehicle.

"I can act crazy." Joe muttered as he followed her.

"Something to look forward to." Marissa said with a wink.

They took the elevator up to the fifth floor. When the doors opened Ranger was standing in the hallway waiting for them. He locked eyes with Marissa, and she felt a rush run through her. He was dressed in his usual wardrobe of RangeMan black-black cargoes, black skin-tight t-shirt and black Bates boots. He looked lethal and incredible sexy.

The last time they were together it had been anything but sexual. He had come to offer her comfort and support after she had gotten hurt during a takedown. Maybe this time they could…Joe cleared his throat loudly behind her.

"I think when the doors open you're supposed to get out." he said in a smug tone.

"Oh. Right. Sorry." Marissa said clearly embarrassed at being caught in her lust haze.

"Nice to see you again Agent Carter." Ranger said as they walked towards him.

"Nice to see you too Carlos." she replied and hoped that her face wasn't too flushed.

"Agent Anderson. Morelli." Ranger said and nodded at them.

Bryan gave him a mock salute, while Joe responded with "Manoso."

The floor was silent, and Joe had the sneaking suspicion that they were being monitored by unseen eyes. Then out of the corner of his eye he saw Stephanie round the corkboard wall of her cubby and stop dead in her tracks. Joe turned to look at her, and her eyes went wide as she spotted the group.

Marissa stared at the supple-looking brunette before her. So this was Stephanie. Her wild curls and big blue eyes stood out from her fair complexion, and gave her an almost ethereal quality. No wonder Carlos was attracted to her. She glanced at Joe.

A muscle in his jaw was working overtime and his lips were set in a thin line. His eyes however were soft, and the warmth they projected was directed at the woman whom Marissa realized he had loved for a very long time. Love like that didn't just disappear after a break up, it morphed into something else. Something that bonded you to the other person and played with your heart and mind. Something that always made you wonder what if.

Joe looked lost so Marissa took it upon herself to help him out. She plastered a smile onto her face and stuck her hand out.

"Hi. I'm Special Agent Marissa Carter from the FBI." She walked towards Stephanie who recovered just in time from her stare down with Joe to grasp Marissa's hand.

"Hi." Steph said. "I'm Stephanie Plum."

"I know. Seems you're a favorite topic amongst these guys."

Steph blushed and gave a quick glance at the group of males behind Marissa. "I hope it was nothing embarrassing."

"Not in the least." Marissa said with a smile. Bryan cleared his throat loudly behind her.

"Oh, and that's my partner Special Agent Bryan Anderson."

Marissa was doing her best to hold herself together. She had been expecting some kind of emotional reaction to finally meeting the woman who had Carlos' heart, but yet still, the knot in her stomach caught her off guard. What made it even harder, was the fact that she felt uneasy about knowing intimate details of Stephanie's relationship with Carlos. It was almost voyeuristic. And a whole lot of uncomfortable.

As if sensing the gravity of the situation, Ranger's voice broke into the moment.

"My office is this way." he said and turned and walked down the hall. Marissa and Bryan followed.

"See ya later Cupcake." Joe said and followed the group.

Marissa and Bryan looked at each other and mouthed, _"Cupcake?"_

"You two behave." Ranger said over their snickering as they went into his office.

Ranger listened to Marissa's and Bryan's plan to get into the ME's autopsy room and said a short, but heart-felt prayer to grant him the patience he was going to need in the next few minutes.

"Well? What do you think?" Marissa asked expectantly from her seat across from him.

Ranger shook his head and refrained from banging it on his desk. "Not a good plan."

Marissa and Bryan bumped their fists together and grinned.

"Told ya it was so good he was gonna hate it." Marissa said joyously.

"Christ." Ranger breathed.

"I'm with you on this one Manoso." Joe interjected from his perch by the door.

Marissa rolled her eyes. "We're hoping you could supply us with a few items."

"Like?' Ranger asked cautiously.

"A digital camera, a spark-gap transmitter and a few ounces of Thermite."

Ranger stared at her. "Thermite?"

Marissa nodded and smiled.

Ranger knew he wasn't going to like the answer to his next question, but he had to ask. "And why would you need that?"

"How else are we going to get into the ME's office? The back doors are exit doors only."

The beauty of Thermite was that it had many uses. It was not an explosive, but instead operated by exposing a small area of metal to extremely high temperatures. It had a surface temperature of a thousand degrees and was mostly used to weld railroad ties. It also made pretty short work of most locks too.

Ranger cut his eyes to Marissa, his face a blank mask.

"These two are crazy." Joe said to him.

"Tell me something I don't know." Ranger muttered as he shook his head.

Marissa looked at Joe. "Morelli, didn't we have this conversation already? I told you the reasons. What's your problem?"

"I don't like your field tactics."

"And I don't like your whining." she shot back.

Ranger let out a frustrated sigh. "Look, I can get you what you need, but I don't have to like it. It's risky, and if you get caught you know the consequences."

"We won't get caught." Marissa said through clenched teeth. "As long as everyone does what they're supposed to do", she shot a look at Joe, "We should be in there no more than ten minutes. I just need to take a closer look at the corpse."

"And you can't do that through the regular channels?"

"Not with Dr. Watson hovering like an old nurse maid. We only have four days before we leave in order to find out anything substantial. If I wait for the good doctor to do his job it will take weeks...even months. And by that time whoever did this gets away scot-free because we were going through _regular channels_."

Morelli rolled his eyes.

"Look, my gut is telling me that these people didn't die naturally." Marissa argued.

"But there were no marks of violence on the bodies." Joe said.

"Morelli, everyone in this room knows that there's more than one way to kill a person without violence." Marissa pointed out.

"Yeah, I know. It's the same thing you're doing to my career."

For the fourth time in two minutes Stephanie shot a glance at Ranger's closed office door and frowned.

What the hell was going on in there? Why would Morelli and the FBI be working together? And why did Morelli have to be looking so edible in those jeans?

She had been on her way to the kitchen to get a cup of coffee when she had spotted them. It was a surprise to see another woman in the RangeMan building, as she and Ella were the only ones who inhabited the building at any given time. But what struck her the most was the way the female agent and Ranger looked at each other. It was as if they knew each other- and not in a professional way either. Curiouser and curiouser.

What had been the biggest surprise though were the emotions she felt when she saw Joe. They had broken up a few months ago, and Stephanie was getting on with her life. So why was she feeling like her heart was breaking all over again when she saw him? The way he had looked at her made her wonder if he too regretted their break-up. Did he?

She thought about this for a while then decided it was her overactive imagination compensating for the fact that her love life was nonexistent at the moment. She blamed herself for that, but she also blamed Ranger. The man sure was confusing. He knew she and Joe weren't together, and he still flirted with her in his usual way, but something was off. It was as though he was holding himself back.

When he kissed her he was always the first one to pull away, and when she tried to initiate things to go further he always had a reason why they shouldn't: she wasn't ready yet, he had a meeting in ten minutes, or the classic one, that she and Morelli needed to work on their relationship. Sheesh! Didn't he get the memo that her hormones were raging and ready to engage in some Cuban testosterone?

Then a few days ago they were on a surveillance job when he had gotten a phone call that seemed to put him on edge. Ranger was never one to show fear or nervousness, but this time she could tell that the phone call was not good news. He had then called Lester to take over the detail for him, and then took off once Lester arrived.

Later that night he had called to check up on her and congratulate her on capturing the skip. She asked about his sudden departure and he had told her that a friend of his had gotten injured. Wait a minute. The female agent had a bruise across her cheek. Could she have been the _"friend"_? Hmmm.

Movement from across the room caught her attention.

"Hey girlfriend, ready for dinner?" Lula greeted as she sashayed into Steph's cubby on her Via Spigas.

Lula was dressed in a fuchsia-colored, low-cut dress that was obviously a size too small. Her hair was dyed to match the dress, and her make-up was as bright as the rest of her. She and Steph had made plans to go to a new restaurant that opened up a few weeks ago. Lester had recommended it to them, and Lula thought that it would do Steph some good to get out and have fun for a night to get her mind off Joe and Ranger.

"Hey, I'm just about ready. Just let me go change." Stephanie said as she cleared her desk.

"Why are you not ready? You knew what time I was coming."

"Uhm...I got distracted." Stephanie answered lamely.

"Hunh." Lula said. "Working around here would do that to a woman. All that fine man meat running around could overload a woman's senses. But they got nothing on my Tankie. That man is hella fine. So fine that his..."

"Lula!"

"Sorry. Got carried away."

"No problem. But it's not the guys here that had me distracted." Steph lowered her voice. "There's a woman in Ranger's office."

Lula's eyebrows shot up.

"An FBI agent." Steph continued.

"Are they having sex in there?" Lula asked clearly intrigued.

"No! They're in there with her partner. And get this, Morelli's in there too."

"Kinky. Wait a minute. Morelli's here? At RangeMan? Are pigs flying outside?" Lula asked.

"It gets even weirder. When the female agent came off the elevator and saw Ranger it was like this heated look passed between them."

"Like the ones you and Ranger do?"

Stephanie made a face. "We don't do that."

Lula shot her a dubious look. "Right. Anyway, I think you're making a big deal out of nothing. Everyone knows that FBI agents, especially the female ones, are a bunch of Plain Janes. Have you seen them? They make Rosie O'Donnell look like a beauty queen."

Stephanie wasn't convinced. "Well this one looked like she could've been a beauty queen. She looked kinda...exotic."

Lula sat down on the empty chair next to her desk. "Exotic? Like star fruit exotic?"

"No. More like Rae Dawn Chong exotic."

"Damn."

Ranger's desk phone rang. He answered, listened, and then hung up.

"Tank has everything ready for you." he said to the small group.

"Great." Marissa said as she stood up and walked towards the door. "We should get going. Lots to do."

"I need to talk to you for a minute." Ranger said to Marissa. He flicked a glance at Morelli and Bryan. "Alone."

Uh oh.

"I know what you're going to say Carlos." Marissa started when the two men left the room.

Ranger gave her a chagrined look and leaned against the edge of his desk. "It's a bad idea Mari. And dragging Morelli into it is just going to make things even worse."

"I didn't come here for a lecture Carlos. I came because I needed help." she said irritated by the lack of his support.

"I'm helping aren't I?"

"Reluctantly."

"It's called being cautious. Breaking into government buildings is not high on my list of things to do." he said stonily.

Marissa pressed her lips together in a frustrated gesture. "Look, the last thing I want is to get you into trouble. I can pick up what I need from a hardware store. It's not a problem. I'm sure Morelli knows one close by."

Ranger stared at her. Part of him wanted to shake some sense into her, the other part wanted to kiss the scowl that had masked her features. He'd missed her. He had been surprised by her phone call and the fact that she was in Trenton, but he was also quite pleased. The last few days she had been on his mind constantly. He had barely gotten any work done, and even Steph had noticed his distant mood. She had questioned him about it when they had had dinner a couple of nights ago up on the seventh floor.

He assured her it was nothing, and dismissed his mood as tiredness but Stephanie's keen instinct had seen past his façade.

"How is your friend that got hurt the other night? Are they alright?" she asked as she pushed the food around on her plate.

"They're doing fine now." he had answered stoically. He then switched the conversation to the research she was doing on a jewelry store owner suspected of money laundering. He knew however that it would only be a matter of time before she confronted him again on his wary mood. But hopefully by then he could make up some other story to appease her. He hated lying to her, but how could he talk about something that he himself was not sure about?

Later that night when he'd dropped her off at her apartment and did a sweep of the rooms she had pressed herself against him and given him a kiss that sent his hormones into overdrive.

"Can you stay?" she'd whispered as she brushed a hand over his well-defined abs.

He knew he should have left then. Stephanie deserved his full attention, and at that moment it was in New York.

"Not tonight Babe. Tank's waiting on me to go after a high-end skip."

He didn't lie. They did have to go after a skip that night but the takedown wasn't due to happen until 23:00...two hours away.

Stephanie had stared at him with concerned blue eyes. "What's going on Ranger? You've been acting strange all night. You're not in trouble are you?"

He smiled at her. "No trouble Babe. Just a lot going on."

She wasn't convinced. "You would tell me if you were in trouble, right?"

He brushed a kiss across her lips. That was his Babe, always looking out for him. "Yes I would tell you."

She smiled at him and leaned in for one more toe-curling goodnight kiss.

Now, here he stood in the same room with the reason for his preoccupied mind. He pulled a key fob out of his pocket and aimed it at the ceiling.

Marissa frowned and looked up to where he had aimed.

"Camera." he explained then reached out and pulled her towards him.

"Carlos I don't think..."

"No thinking." he murmured just before his lips engulfed hers. The kiss went from soft and welcoming, to deep and arousing in a matter of seconds. And in the tight band of his arms Marissa lost herself in his unique scent and delicious taste. Their tongues touched and she let out a moan.

She grounded her hips against his and wasn't disappointed when she felt his erection hard against her stomach. Then she remembered where she was. She pulled away abruptly and pressed her palms against his muscled chest. She couldn't meet his eyes so she stared at her hands contrasting against the black fabric.

"I can't...not here..."

"Mari." Ranger breathed. He knew what she was trying to say, but at that point he didn't care. Or want to. He leaned into her again, but she held him at bay.

"I can't do this." she said more vehemently. Her eyes flickered up to meet his and Ranger saw the turmoil that was going on inside of her.

He closed his eyes and let out a harsh sigh. He took a step back but didn't release her. "I'm sorry."

She shook her head. "No. Never sorry."

Ranger smiled. Marissa was usually a talker, but when she got flustered, or was out of her element her words got choppy. He kissed her on the forehead.

"She's very pretty." she said softly.

He nodded, not knowing what to say, or if he should say anything at all.

"Morelli told me she was working here, but I wasn't expecting...don't worry I'm not going to make a habit..."

"Stop talking Mari." Ranger admonished lightly. He tilted her chin up with his index finger. "I'm glad you're here."

She didn't seem to be convinced. She pulled out of his arms, and her version of the blank mask fell into place. This was her self-preservation mode.

"The guys are waiting." she said as she jerked her head at the door.

He understood her need to flee and nodded. It was for the best, because God knew if she stayed he would have to lock his office door and pray that his walls really were sound proof to block out the noises they were guaranteed to make.

"Good luck tonight. And don't get Morelli hurt."

She opened the door, then turned and smiled at him. "Morelli's a big boy. I'm sure he can handle anything. Even a little pain."

"Mari."

She blew him a kiss then closed the door behind her.

"Here she comes!" Stephanie whispered excitedly to Lula. Peering over the cubby wall, they watched as Marissa walked towards the control room. Lester and Hal were on the day shift, and when they saw her they each engulfed her in a bear hug.

"Hunh." Lula said. "Will you look at that? She just swoops up in here with her skinny ass and proceeds to takeover all our men."

Stephanie shot a look at Lula. "They're not our men."

"Oh yeah?" Lula huffed. "First she takes Morelli over, then she's in Ranger's office for a good five minutes after Morelli and that fine-ass white boy come out, now she's all up on Lester and our boy Hal. Now you tell me if that's not taking over."

Okay, so maybe Lula did have a point.

"Maybe they just worked together from before. RangeMan sometimes does contract work for the FBI." Stephanie tried to rationalize.

Lula stuck a hand on one of her round hips. "I'll tell you this. If I see her all up on my man Tank, she better hope she has good insurance."

At that moment Tank walked off the elevator and into the control room. Stephanie and Lula watched as he picked up Marissa and swung her around before planting a kiss on her cheek.

"I'll kill her!" Lula yelled and charged towards the control room.

"Lula! Stop!" Stephanie screamed as she grabbed onto Lula's arm and tried futilely to pull her back. A jealous woman was hard to stop though. Lula gave her arm a sharp tug and Stephanie lost her balance and went down on the floor.

The commotion caused Marissa and the men to turn just in time to see Lula rushing into the control room.

"I'll kill her!" Lula yelled and lunged at Marissa. Tank's reflexes kicked in and his arm shot out around Lula's waist just as she made a grab for Marissa's hair. Years of combat training and muscle memory made Marissa take a step back and duck her head from the oncoming assault.

"Let me go!" Lula screamed at Tank.

"Calm down!" Tank yelled back as he positioned his bulk to block Lula's path.

"I saw her! I saw her wrap her boney hands around you. Man-stealing heifer!"

Marissa was looking on at the scene with amusement, while Lester and Hal were unsuccessfully trying not to burst out in laughter. Ranger, Joe and Bryan ran into the room.

"What the hell is going on?" Ranger demanded as his gaze ran around the room. "I could hear you guys from my office."

"Tank's having woman trouble." Marissa offered with a smirk.

Ranger's dark gaze settled on a pissed off Tank who still had his arm wrapped around a violently squirming Lula. "Explain."

Stephanie hurried into the now crowded control room. "Lula you've got to calm down."

"Calm down my ass! Only thing that's gonna calm me down is when I take this skanky home-wrecker down." She made another unsuccessful lunge at Marissa.

Joe and Bryan looked at each other and smiled at the thought of Marissa being called a skanky home-wrecker.

"Well, she has been called worse things." Bryan said with a shrug. "But never by a two hundred and thirty pound woman. Where's that digital camera? I need pics of this to send back to the office in New York."

Ranger glared at Bryan. "Now is not the time for jokes."

"Who's joking?" Bryan said and left the room.

"Look, this was all just a big misunderstanding." Stephanie said, "Lula just got a little...carried away when she saw Tank hugging Agent Carter."

Ranger looked from Tank, to Lula, to Marissa, then back to Tank. "Handle it."

Marissa tilted her head and pouted playfully. "Aww Carlos, you're such a party pooper. I say let her go Tank. The winner gets to have their way with you for a night."

Lula let out a growl and made another grab for Marissa but missed her by mere inches.

Ranger leveled a dark look at Marissa. "Stop baiting her."

Marissa stared back, refusing to be intimidated by him. She had never backed down from a fight, especially one where she was wrongly accused of doing something. But this was his turf and she had every intention of respecting it. He was going to owe her big time though.

"I'm sorry you got the wrong idea Lula. Pie...Tank and I have known each other for years. We're just friends. I meant no disrespect."

"You know what this reminds me of?" Lester interjected. "The time Mari went undercover as that hooker to get that Mexican drug lord to lead us to his stash house."

He looked around the room. "Remember when his wife showed up and wanted to cut Mari's eyes out? I didn't know whether to be turned on or jump in and help. Too bad Mari shot her in the head. She was kinda cute."

Everyone looked at Marissa. Joe was looking at her with great interest, while Lula and Stephanie's eyes were the size of saucers. Ranger just shook his head ruefully and left the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6: Chapter 6**

Working with someone not used to your modus operandi introduced an element of risk. It was often at times like these that Marissa wished everyone went through Green Beret training in high school.

"So let me guess this straight." Morelli said as they pulled up at the back of the Medical Examiner's building later that night. "We're gonna burn the lock away using that Pepsi can of...what did you call that? Thermite?"

Marissa nodded.

"How are you going to secure it to the lock?"

"With the one thing murderers and kidnappers can't live without." Marissa said with a smile. "Duct tape."

"Christ." Joe breathed as he turned off the engine.

"Don't look so worried Morelli. We've done this hundreds of times." Bryan said as he opened the back door and got out.

"Even more reason to be worried." Joe muttered as he opened his door.

They had surveyed the building earlier on, and noted that there were two security guards at the front desk and two cameras watched the back perimeter of the building. Fortunately, the cameras were positioned to watch what was happening on a street that ran parallel to the building. However, they were taking no chances and decided to stick close to the wall just to be on the safe side.

Joe watched as they took the Pepsi can filled with Thermite and a thin piece of rope embedded it, and duct taped it to the area where the lock was.

"Here we go." Bryan said as he lit the rope. "You might want to stand a couple of feet back.

They watched as the flame ate its way up the rope and then a bright flare began to spark and burn. When the pyrotechnic show was over all that was left was a gaping hole. With heat resistant gloves on her hands Marissa dug her fingers along the door's edge and pulled. Joe shook his head as the door swung open. These two were like graduates of the MacGyver School for Secret Agents.

"Ready, Morelli?" Marissa asked as she took the gloves off and handed them to Bryan.

"No."

"Good." She disappeared through the door.

The plan was for Bryan to keep an eye on the security guards. Security protocol was that if any alarms were triggered one guard would go check things out, leaving the other guard to man the desk. If something was amidst the guard who was investigating would radio the other one for back up and a silent alarm would be triggered to alert the authorities.

But in this case that wasn't going to happen thanks to the spark-gap transmitter Bryan would have in the car with him. Once fired up the device would block all radio frequencies within a two mile radius giving Marissa and Joe enough time to get out of the building without too much trouble.

"Have I told you how much I hate this plan?" Joe asked as they walked quickly down the long, dimly lit, Pinesol smelling corridor.

"Only about ten times." Marissa replied nonchalantly as she read the names on the doors.

Three doors down they came to the Autopsy Room. Marissa adjusted her knit cap on her head and zipped up her coat. "I hate this part." she muttered.

"Death scares you Agent Carter?" Joe asked as he zipped up his parka.

"Not death Morelli. The smell of rotting flesh irks me."

"Reminds you of your mortality?"

"No, it reminds me that there's going to be extra paperwork. I hate paperwork." she said as she entered the room.

Stephanie and Lula sat in Lula's Firebird with their mouths opened.

"Did I see right?" Lula asked in the darkened car. "Did your boyfriend just break into the morgue?"

Stephanie couldn't believe it herself. What was Joe doing? She was sure there was a perfectly good excuse why he had stood by and watched the two agents set the back door of the morgue on fire.

"He's not my boyfriend. And maybe the front door was locked." Stephanie suggested.

They watched as a police car stopped at the front entrance and two cops got out and went into the building.

"Okay then." Lula said.

Stephanie shook her head. "Maybe we should get going to the restaurant like we were supposed to and not be spying on Morelli."

Lula shot her a look. "Girl what is wrong with you? This here is more exciting than eating in a restaurant. We were just witnesses to a crime."

Stephanie cringed. That was what she was afraid of. "I was really looking forward to eating some shrimp scampi though."

"Who can think of food at a time like this?" Lula asked excitedly. "Should we call the cops?"

"For what?"

"To report Morelli burglarizing the morgue."

"I'm sure he has a really good reason." Stephanie said lamely.

"Like what? Last time I checked there was nothing in that place but dead bodies. Maybe he's turned into a zombie or somethin' and needs to eat brains to survive."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "He's not a zombie."

"Well how do you explain what he's doing breaking into a morgue?" Lula said. "Wait a minute! Wait a minute! I think I've figured it out. It's that man-stealing hussy. She's the zombie."

"What?"

"That agent whats-her-name. You heard Lester. She shot a woman in the head. My guess is that's how she gets the brains."

Stephanie let out a sigh. "The woman she shot was the wife of a drug lord who was going to attack her with a knife."

"I fail to see your point here."

Sheesh!

"Hold the flashlight a little up some more." Marissa directed Joe as she scanned the body with keen eyes.

They were in the huge refrigerator just off the left of the autopsy room. The temperature was set at a bone chilling five degrees in order to stop the decomposing process. This was great for the forensic pathologist but lousy for people snooping.

"My fingers are about to fall off." Joe said through clenched teeth as he moved the flashlight. "I'm frozen from the waist down."

"Stop complaining Morelli. It's not like you have use for anything useful down there anyway." Marissa said as she raised the head of the corpse and turned it to the side.

"How would you know?"

"That assumption was based from what I saw went down between you and Stephanie today."

"Nothing happened."

"Exactly."

Joe made a disgusted sound.

"Ah hah!" Marissa said.

"Found something?"

"Maybe." She took the digital camera she had in one of the pockets of her cargo pants, and took a few pictures of the corpse. Her phone rang.

"We have a situation." Bryan said when she answered. "It seems Miss Plum and her friend are talking to the security guards at the front. And from what I can tell you have about two minutes to get out of there."

"Did they follow us here?" Marissa asked as she handed the camera to Joe and started to encase the body back in the bag.

"Seems so. Okay Carter, one of the guards just left the desk and is walking back to you. Get out of there. Now. I'm turning on the transmitter now as a precaution."

"Is there a problem?" Joe asked when Marissa hung up.

"Never a problem Morelli. Just glitches." she answered as took the camera back from him and stuffed it in her pocket. "It's time for us to go."

"What's the glitch?"

"Seems your girlfriend just sold us out." Marissa said as she walked out the freezer.

"What girlfriend?" he asked with a frown. Then, "Stephanie?"

"The one and only. She's very…tenacious, isn't she?"

"Yeah. Especially when she's curious and wants information that she's not entitled to." Joe explained as he watched Marissa close the heavy metal door.

"Does that happen a lot?"

"More than you know." Joe sighed.

Marissa walked to the Autopsy Room door and cautiously opened it and peered out. The coast seemed clear.

They walked hurriedly down the hallway back towards the exit door.

"Stop!" a male voice shouted from behind them.

Marissa looked at Joe with wide eyes. "Run!"

Forty minutes later they were crammed into Joe's home office.

"How do you get anything done in here?" Marissa asked as she looked around the room. There were boxes of income tax files, a red plastic milk carton filled with old tennis balls, a baseball bat, a stack of phone books, gloves and wraps for a speed bag, a giant blue denim dog bed, a well-oiled baseball glove, a power screwdriver, roles of duct tape, a dead plant in a clay pot and a plastic watering can.

"It works better when it's just me in here." Joe said as he took the memory card out of the digital camera and stuck it in the card reader on his computer.

Bryan was juggling three of the tennis balls near the door when Bob sauntered in. He looked at the balls then to Bryan, then back to the balls again.

"I guess somebody wants to play." Bryan said. "Mind if I take him out to the back yard?"

"Knock yourself out." Joe said.

Marissa sat down on one of the boxes.

"You can have the chair if you want." Joe said as he quickly got up.

"No, no." she said putting her hand up in a stop motion. 'I'm quite comfortable here."

They watched as the pictures began to upload.

"I like your house." Marissa said. "Suits you."

Joe shrugged. "Didn't think that it would. Inherited it from my Aunt Rose."

Marissa looked up at the high ceilings. "Nice. My townhouse isn't so grand. Love the crown moldings."

"Do you rent or own?" Joe asked.

"Own. Well me and the bank anyway." she said with a smile.

"It's still yours. Homeownership is great."

"Yeah, great when you're there to enjoy it. This job doesn't cater to stability on the home front. Every day is different. Different crime scenes, different city and different assholes to deal with. And I'm talking both criminal and professional here."

Joe laughed. "Sounds like someone needs to make life choices."

Marissa shook her head. "I love my life. It's just that sacrifices have to be made, and on the bad days you wonder if you're really doing what you should be doing."

"And are you?"

Marissa looked at him and smiled. "Can't you tell from the fun we had tonight?'

Joe shook his head. "You guys are crazy. I still say we should've gone through protocol. Less things to worry about in the long run."

"Like your girlfriend?"

"She's not my girlfriend."

"So you say Morelli, but a woman doesn't follow a man just for fun. She wanted to make sure you weren't going to be doing any hanky-panky with me." She waggled her eyebrows at him.

Joe shot her a wry look. "I don't think she was worried about you and me. I suspect it was the time alone you spent in Ranger's office that had her hyper."

"S'cuse me?"

"That's the reason...well one of the reasons anyway, that we broke up."

"I'm not following you here Morelli."

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Things didn't work out with Steph and I for a lot of reasons, but it was her involvement with Ranger that sealed the deal."

"She cheated on you with him?"

"Not really. I suspected something was going on between them, but Steph is not the type to cheat when she's in a relationship."

"So what was their involvement?"

Joe scrubbed his hand over his face. "I don't know. It was the way he looked at her I guess."

"Like how?"

"Like how I would look at her."

"Oh."

"Yeah."

"But that's still not proof though. I mean come on Morelli, you and I both know that it takes a lot more than that to accuse someone of doing something."

"I know. But I do know that they spent the night together once. Not while we were together mind you, but during one of our off phases."

Uh oh, Marissa thought. Carlos would not be pleased to hear that. Even though she knew that Steph and Carlos did spend the night together, she didn't think it was her business to tell Joe.

"How do you know that?" she asked feigning innocence.

"I was in the parking lot of her apartment building when he pulled up." He leaned forward, with his elbows on his knees and dropped his head. "And to torture myself I stayed until he left."

Marissa frowned. "When did he leave?'

"The next morning."

Marissa tried to say something witty, yet comforting, but nothing came to mind. She tried again. Still nothing. Damn.

"I have no idea what to say here." she confessed.

Joe looked up at her. "Nothing to say. What happened happen, and this is where we are today."

"Well that's a Machiavellian way to look at it."

He gave her a tight smile and glanced back at his computer screen. "Pics are done."

Marissa got up from her make-shift chair and went to lean over the table and peer at the screen. Her hip brushed against Joe's arm. "Sorry."

"It's okay. That just may have been the first contact I've had with a woman in months."

Marissa stared at him. "That's sad and pathetic Morelli."

"Tell me about it." he snorted.

"You need to hang out with Anderson. He's got way too many women already. I'm sure he wouldn't mind sharing."

"I'll pass thank you." Joe said. "Your partner is an intense guy."

"If by_ intense_ you mean male slut, then yes, he is as intense as they get."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Joe had just shut down his computer when there was banging on his front door.

"Someone really wants to see you." Marissa said from her perch on the boxes where she was making notes on her Blackberry.

Joe peered out the window. "Shit! It's Stephanie."

There was more banging.

"You better go see what she wants." Marissa said with a teasing smile.

He muttered a curse before going down the stairs and opening the door with heavy reluctance. He came face to face with a peeved looking Stephanie. Great.

"Joseph Anthony Morelli, are you insane?" Stephanie said by way of greeting. "What the hell were you thinking breaking into a morgue?"

Joe remained silent and pressed his lips together. It was best not to answer too quickly when Steph was shouting. Past experience told him there was more coming.

"I almost peed myself when I saw you go through that door. Lula was about to call the cops. The only reason she didn't was because I reminded her that you were a cop. Are you in some kind of trouble?"

Joe thought it was best to have this conversation behind a closed door rather than on his porch. He pulled Stephanie inside then tried to gather his thoughts.

"Well?" Stephanie asked with her hands on her hips, and her foot tapping impatiently.

"I'm not in trouble. I was working."

Stephanie stopped moving. "Working? What are you? A freaking burglar now? Times may be hard Morelli, but not that hard."

He brushed past her and went into the kitchen. Maybe a beer would help clear his head. "It's not like that."

"Then what's it like?" she asked sullenly as she followed him.

He opened the refrigerator and took out two Coronas. "I can't tell you that. It's classified." He handed a bottle to her.

"Classified? Does this have anything to do with those Feds you're working with?"

"Maybe." he said.

He watched as she twisted the cap off the bottle and took a long drink. Then he noticed her attire. "Were you going out or something?'

She looked down at herself. "I was supposed to be at dinner with Lula, but you and your crime spree got me side-tracked."

"And why were you following me?" He took a swig from the bottle and leaned against the kitchen counter. He couldn't wait to hear her explanation.

Stephanie swallowed her mouthful of beer and shifted uncomfortably. There was no way she was going to tell him that she'd actually been jealous of the fact that he was in the company of Agent Carter. She had also been intrigued by the fact that Joe was working with the Feds on a case. Getting such an assignment meant that something big was going on in Trenton.

The last time he worked with the Feds was during the whole Scrog fiasco. The other thing that had her curious was that when she had asked Ranger about Agent Carter he had been vague; even vaguer than he usually was. Ranger would usually share the basics with her; letting her know just enough to satisfy her curiosity, but leaving all the covert stuff out. This time she barely managed to get anything out of him at all.

"_She's working on a case with the TPD."_ he'd told her. Like duh. That much was obvious. Then when she asked him how well he knew Agent Carter, he told her she didn't have security clearance for that answer. The man was just infuriating! Argh!

She stared at Joe. "I...I...was curious. Nobody wanted to tell me what was going on, so I had to find out myself."

"So you made Lula go with you to spy on me?"

"Actually it was Lula's idea. After that whole Tank episode today she was just as curious as me."

"Christ."

"We just wanted to know what was going on. And we were a little curious about Agent Carter too. She seems to know you and Ranger really well."

"We worked together a few years back, and she was our New York contact during that thing with Scrog."

Finally, Steph thought, some answers.

"So what is she working on now? And why are you with them?"

Joe's cop face slammed into place. "That's classified."

Steph shot him a withering look. "You can't be serious?"

He stayed silent.

"Fine." she grounded out as she slammed the bottle down on the kitchen table. "I'll just leave you to your _classified business_."

"Cupcake…"

Bryan and Bob came bounding into the room.

"Man, your dog sure knows his way around a ball." Bryan said. "I think he ate one too."

Bob rushed up to Stephanie, tongue hanging out and tail wagging furiously. She rubbed his head vigorously, and his tail wagged even harder.

"At least someone's happy to see me." she said as she glared at Joe.

"Who's happy?" Marissa asked as she joined the group.

Stephanie shot a wide-eyed look at Joe as if to say _"She's here too?"_ Joe just shrugged nonchalantly and finished off his beer.

"Agent Carter, what are you doing here?" Steph asked in what she hoped was a neutral tone.

Marissa shot a quick glance at Joe wondering how much he had told Stephanie. With an imperceptible shake of his head she got her answer.

"We were just using visiting. Morelli told us about his house and we wanted the tour." Marissa answered. "It's a lot bigger than my townhouse and his renovations are inspiring."

Stephanie wasn't buying it though. "So inspiring you went shopping for accessories at the morgue?"

"Stephanie." Joe grounded out. "Now is not the time."

Marissa held up a hand. "No worries Morelli. We had quite an audience tonight. I'm waiting for Carlos' interrogation too."

"Ranger was there?" Stephanie asked with wide eyes.

"No. He would never do surveillance on us himself." Bryan answered. "He sent Santos. Didn't you see the black SUV around the corner from the entrance?"

Stephanie stared at him. Neither she nor Lula had seen any RangeMan vehicles. They had been so focused on Joe that they didn't think to look for a tail. So much for being aware of their surroundings. She was sure word had gotten back to Ranger that she had sold out the agents and Joe. But it wasn't her fault. Lula had been like a runaway train. There had been no stopping her as soon as she got out of the car.

Stephanie glanced at Joe. His lips were in a thin line and a muscle was flexing in his jaw. No doubt he wasn't pleased to know that RangeMan had been spying on him too. She watched as he sent a chagrined look at Marissa, who in turned smiled sweetly at him just as her phone began to chirp. She looked at the display.

"Well." Marissa started, "I guess we should be heading back to our hotel. Lots to do tomorrow."

Joe pushed himself off the counter. "I'll go get my keys."

"No need." Marissa said. "Carlos sent one of his guys to pick us up."

Stephanie's radar elevated. Ranger had sent one of the guys to play chauffeur? She thought she was the only one he did that for. Hmm, maybe this Agent Carter was more special to him than he was letting on. She would have to do some _investigating_.

Marissa turned to Stephanie. "It was nice seeing you again Ms. Plum." She turned to Joe. "Morelli I'll see you tomorrow at 0700."

Joe nodded.

Stephanie waited until she heard the front door close before she spoke. "Okay Morelli, spill. What were they really doing here?"

Joe huffed out a sigh. "I told you we were working."

Stephanie shook her head. "Okay. Fine. I'm not going to push anymore."

Joe didn't believe her. He knew that until Stephanie's curiosity was satisfied she was going to be on him like white on rice. He would just have to be extra cautious. But then again when it came to working with Marissa "cautious" it seemed was not a word that belonged anywhere in that description.

The woman was a walking ball of action. The worst part was that he was curious about her and her unconventional tactical methods. Of course, he had to put his two cents in about her methods. But he was honest enough with himself to admit that he enjoyed the adrenaline rush.

The monotony of his cases was beginning to wear on him. He had been surrounded by so much death over the past few months that at times he wished he could die just to get away from it. His break up with Steph had added fuel to his depressed mood, and he had feared that if he didn't ask for help soon he would be going down a very destructive path.

"Look Steph, I promise to tell you what I can—which may not be much by the way. I'm not in the loop with what the Feds have going on as my assignment on this is just as a liaison between the departments."

Stephanie frowned at him." Liaison? What exactly is that job description?""

Joe pursed his lips in irritation at the label. "I'm helping them out with an investigation. They don't know the area, so I was chosen to help out."

"Why couldn't the FBI field office here help them out? I mean, come on Morelli, it's not like they can't afford to give them a car and a GPS system."

"It's a joint task force operation."

"Joint task force? They only come up with those on big cases. Multi-state cases as a matter of fact." Her brow furrowed in concentration. "This wouldn't have anything to do with that body that washed up near the docks this morning would it? I heard the guys at the office talking about it."

Shit! Joe thought, the woman was too perceptive. He knew it was best to tell her the truth, even if it was to only confirm her suspicions. On the other hand if he did that she would know too much. Then a thought struck him. If she was here asking him these questions it would mean that she didn't know anything at all.

He assumed she would go to Ranger and ask him first, but if she did then why was she asking a barrel of questions? Ranger probably hadn't told her anything about the case. Final deduction? He was going to keep his mouth shut too. But how was he going to distract her long enough to keep her from asking anymore questions?

A smile curved its way across his lips as a plan popped into his head. He tilted his head at Stephanie and began to slowly walk towards her.

"I know you didn't come here to ask me about dead bodies at the dock Cupcake." he said.

Stephanie frowned at him. "I didn't?"

Joe shook his head and made his eyes go soft as he stopped a few feet in front of her. Stephanie knew that look. Oh boy did she know that look.

"Um…look Morelli, I just wanted to make sure you weren't in any trouble after what I saw tonight. I didn't come over here for anything else."

Joe took a step closer which made Stephanie take two back. Her retreat was thwarted when her butt hit against the kitchen table. Joe moved in and stopped inches away from her.

"I can think of some trouble we can get into." he said huskily.

He watched as Stephanie swallowed audibly.

"Joe…I…"

He bent his head; his lips a few scant inches away from hers. "I've missed you Cupcake."

His lips brushed softy against hers. "I've missed this."

Stephanie's senses were whirling. Her breathing was coming out in pants, her nipples were becoming pencil points, and her body tingled all over. Damn the man for having this effect on her. She leaned forward into the kiss and sighed when she felt Joe push into her. She opened her mouth a little wider allowing him access to slip his tongue into her mouth. The action caused a moan to erupt deep from within her.

Joe hadn't expected the emotions that came with the kiss. He had meant to distract her. To keep her from asking anymore questions, but now it seemed as if he was the one getting distracted. She tasted…different. More intoxicating than he remembered, and this only caused him to want more of her.

He pushed her back onto the table until her back touched the flat surface. Her long legs wrapped themselves around his waist which in turn made his fast growing erection nestle itself against her pubic bone. The skirt she was wearing had somehow ridden up to her waist, and her arms were now locked around his neck. He gave himself into the kiss; sweeping his tongue against hers and letting her taste fill him. God he loved this woman! It didn't matter if they weren't together anymore. This moment, their actions, the emotions gripping them—this was what mattered. She moaned into his mouth and the vibrations seemed to stir his erection even more. Her hands clawed at his back, and he responded by grinding harder into her. He wanted her. Now.

His hands fumbled with the belt at his waist, but he couldn't seem to get it undone fast enough. This was how it had always been between them. Their attraction to each other could go from zero to a million once they touched each other. Her hands settled on top of his but made no move to help him undress. She broke free from the intoxicating kiss and whispered his name.

That was all it took for him to know that their interlude would go no further. He forced himself to look at her and tried to hold back his disappointment when he saw the look of distress on her face.

"We can't do this." she said, and he closed his eyes not wanting her to see the anguish in them. She was right though. They couldn't do this. Because after the connubial bliss was over they would be right back to where they were two minutes ago; wary of the cycle of their disagreements and set in their opinions and ways.

If only...

No, Joe thought. It was best not to go down that road. He opened his eyes and morphed his features into one of acceptance and understanding. He smoothed her curls back from her face and gave her a lingering kiss on her forehead. Her hands came up and framed his face, and when he pulled back she gave him a small smile.

"I'm jealous." she said as her eyes searched his. She made no move to untangle herself from their intimate position

"Of what?"

"The woman who's going to be the subject of your Morelli charm."

He laughed low, and took the statement as the compliment that it was meant to be. He said nothing but leveled his whiskey gaze on her and waited for their bodies to settle down. When his jeans felt like they were no longer two sizes too small he pushed himself off of her and pulled her up off the table.

He pulled her skirt back into place; taking the time to smooth out the edges around her thighs. It was more a stalling gesture than a helpful one and Stephanie knew it. She took his hands in hers and brought them up to her lips.

"I know you were trying to distract me." she said. "And even though it worked I'm still not going to leave you alone until I know what's going on."

Joe smiled. He had expected that. "You know given another situation and time that sounded like the kind of sexual harassment I like."

"Sexual harassment?" Stephanie gasped and dropped his hands. "Keep dreaming Morelli."

"You mean it's not?" he asked teasingly. "You bruise my ego Cupcake."

"That's not the only thing I'm gonna bruise if I find out you're going to pull another stunt like tonight."

"That wasn't my fault."

Stephanie frowned. "Okay, I think I just had a déjà vu moment there."

Joe grinned. "See how it feels? Now you know my torment."

"You and I both know that my…mishaps are mostly not of my own doing. You, however, from what I saw, created your own."

"Don't worry about me Cupcake. I promise from now on I'll be the same old boring cop you know and love."

She pursed her lips at him. "What makes you think I still love you?"

He gave her a lopsided grin. "Like you said, it's the Morelli charm."


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

Ranger stood looking at the door contemplating whether to let himself in or knock like a normal person. His lips twitched. Normal? He hadn't operated in that realm since 1996. Best not to try out new things to distract from the purpose of his visit. Lester had reported that all hell had broken loose at the ME's office. He had expected that much. As detailed as Lester's report was though, he wanted to hear her version of what had happened. No doubt it would be very interesting...like her.

He pulled a small tool out of his pants pocket and was about to insert it into the door lock when the door flew open and a 9mm Glock was leveled at his head. On the other side of the gun stood a wary looking Marissa.

"Oh, it's you." she breathed with a sigh of relief and lowered the weapon.

"Expecting company?" he asked with a raised eyebrow.

She shot him a chagrined look and stepped aside. "Not at almost one o'clock in the morning. Come on in."

"From the look on your face I take it you know why I'm here." Ranger said as he brushed past her.

"What look?" Marissa asked as she locked and security-chained the door.

"Mind telling me what happened tonight?" he asked as he sat on the double bed.

She shrugged nonchalantly and placed her gun under one of the pillows on the bed. "Nothing that Santos hasn't already reported I'm sure."

Ranger studied her. She looked tired. Her shoulders were hunched forward, and her eyes were slightly bloodshot. Her skin looked pale, and grey shadows were taking up space under her eyes. She was dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt sans underwear. His gaze flickered to her hardened nipples outlined through the thin material, and he briefly wondered if he was the reason for the effect or the chill in the air. His intent on coming there was just to gather the information he wanted and then leave. The social visit could be left for another day.

"I came to hear your synopsis." he said.

She sat down heavily on the bed. "Yeah? Well I'm not in the mood. Long day and all."

"I could make it a long night too." he offered as leveled his dark gaze on her. His pants were beginning to feel a little too tight, and her fresh scent of hotel soap and deodorant was riling up his libido.

She gave him a small, tired smile. "Rain check?"

He nodded understanding her wariness.

She then told him what happened at the examiner's office and the scenario at Joe's house.

"Is she always that curious?" Marissa asked Ranger.

"Yeah. Especially when her spidey sense is tingling?"

"Spidey sense?"

"You know? Like when Spiderman gets that instinct that danger is approaching."

She shot him an amused look. "So let me guess this straight. She thinks you're Batman, she has _spidey senses_, and you sometimes compare her to Wonder Woman. I don't know Carlos, Marvel and DC Comics might claim copyright infringements."

He nudged her with his knee. "Wise-ass."

She made a face at him and laid back on the bed. "I liked working with Morelli though. He was reluctant at first, but he was a pro at the end."

"Morelli's a good cop." Ranger confirmed as he laid down next to her. "Try not to break him."

"What are you suggesting Carlos?"

"I just know how hard you pursue things when you're on a justice roll. He's not used to your version of FBI politics and procedures. In fact, not even your bosses are."

"Not my fault they hire bureaucratic assholes who never spent a day as street agents to run a department. If they want the majority of my case load prosecuted, or at least approved for prosecution by the U.S. Attorney, then they're just gonna have to realize that in order to bag the criminals you have to think like one."

"Is that your motto?" Ranger asked as his fingers tangled with hers.

She sighed. Loving the feel of his skin against hers and the intimacy that it implied. "No. My motto is usually no coffee, no work. Other than that I just let the chips fall where they may."

"Sounds dangerous."

She shrugged. "It's a matter of perception. You say dangerous, I say progress."

Ranger smiled at her obscure analogy. He seemed to be smiling a lot since she drove into Trenton.

"Did you find anything interesting tonight?" he asked as he studied her features.

Her lips pursed and her brow furrowed. "Maybe. I took some pictures of the body, and was able to identify what looked like a needle mark just below the base of the neck. Looks like the victim was drugged before being killed. Can't be certain though until I can get one of the forensic pathologists to validate my suspicions. I uploaded the pics and sent them off to headquarters. Hopefully by the time I get back to New York I'll have my report."

"When are you leaving?"

"Friday."

"Night?"

She squeezed his fingers. "So many questions Carlos."

"I like being informed."

"I'll take that to mean it's the Manoso way of being nosy. You're just all up in the FBI's business."

"It's not their business I want to be all up in." he retorted huskily as his eyes dilated to black orbs.

She yawned and laughed at the same time. The sound filled the room. "I'm almost afraid to ask."

"Afraid of me?" he asked.

"You're not that scary." she replied with a tired smile.

"When was the last time you slept?"

"What day is this?"

Ranger shot her a blank look.

"Okay fine. I got a few hours on Monday."

He untangled their joined hands and made a show of looking at his watch. "It's Wednesday."

She gave him a blank look of her own.

"Christ Mari, you have to stop living on the edge. You know the consequences of exhaustion."

"Daddy? Is that you?" she teased.

He shot her a withering look before giving her a quick kiss on the lips. "I'm gonna let you get some rest. I'll call you later."

She watched as he fluidly got off the bed and made his way to the door. "I'll be with Morelli all day."

He stopped. "I'll make the time if you do."

Marissa wondered briefly if the offer was genuine or just an effort on his part to play the good host. But then she remembered that Carlos didn't do or say anything he didn't mean.

She smiled and raised herself up into a sitting position. "I'll try my best. No promises."

She didn't want to seem aloof with him, but he could never know the effect he had on her. Night after night she had to erase her thoughts of him as soon as she got into bed. It was the only way she could get to sleep and stay asleep.

Now, here he was less than ten feet from her looking like everything she wanted, and yet she was scared to ask him for anything emotionally extra. Her biggest fear wasn't that he would reject her request, but the knowledge that she would crave for more than he was willing to give. They didn't live in the same state, far less for trying to cultivate any kind of a resemblance of a relationship. And then there was Stephanie Plum.

A potent emotion surged up wildly in her and her eyes dropped to the floral bedspread. She didn't want Carlos to read her thoughts. That would lead to questions she really didn't want to answer. The soft swoosh of the door being opened permeated the room and she waited for the sharp click of it being closed. It didn't come. Instead Ranger spoke. "I'm really glad you're here Mari."

All she could do was nod and offer him a tight smile. The exhaustion was taking over and she felt empty and disconnected from reality. When the door finally closed she crawled under the covers and let the exhaustion wash over her. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she'll try again to not let him affect her.

Joe knocked on the hotel room door and waited. His eyes burned, and a low underlying buzz of pent-up sexual frustration hummed throughout his body. He'd lain awake for hours after Steph had left trying to sort out what had happened between them in his kitchen.

After replaying the scene for what seemed like the ninetieth time, he finally wrapped his had around his throbbing cock, kicked up his imagination, and jerked himself off. It hadn't helped though. It took the edge off of his carnal need, but he knew it was only temporary.

He needed a live woman on top, below and around him in order to satisfy the craving. He could go to a bar or club and pick up an as lonely woman, but the thoughts of the awkward morning after made that option as appealing as sticking his hand in a toilet...at the Port Authority Terminal.

He could also pay for sex with a call girl but he was the kind of guy that couldn't get intimate with a woman unless he knew her on some sort of emotional level. When he was younger and fucking anything that had boobs and a great ass, those details were insignificant. But now as he was much older, a vagina had to be attached to an intelligent woman, with a great sense of humor and an air of independence. This older Joe Morelli had standards, and paying for sex with some woman who would be mentally counting up her days earnings, or thinking about her next client just didn't sit right with him.

Plus, his cop salary didn't negotiate much room for extra-curricular activities like that. So here he was, back at square one, hoping that the sex gods would bestow favor upon him and send him a woman who lived up to his criteria.

The door opened and Marissa stood before him looking slightly frazzled. "Come on in Morelli. I just have to put my sneakers on and we can be on our way."

Joe looked down at her sock-covered feet. "Are those cows?"

Marissa wiggled her toes and smiled. "It's the cow from '_Hey Diddle Diddle'_. You know? The cow jumps over the moon."

"Ah." Morelli said in understanding. "And you actually bought these?"

"They were on sale at Kmart. A dollar for two pairs. You can't beat that." she explained as she walked back into the room with Joe following close behind.

Joe shook this head. This woman was definitely surprising. He had expected her to be dressed in a pants suit with low heeled pumps, instead here she was looking like a college student in cargos, a turtleneck and cow socks, with her hair piled up in a ponytail. And here he thought he was going to be dressed down in his usual uniform of jeans, a long-sleeve t-shirt and running shoes.

"...had to leave early this morning. He got called on another case he was working on." Marissa was saying as she sat on the edge of the bed and put her sneakers on.

"I'm sorry. Who had to leave?"

"Bryan. He has a case coming up for trial in a few days, so he went back this morning to get his shit in order."

"Don't envy him." Joe knew first-hand the monotonous task of getting ready for trial as he'd had to testify on a few cases himself. The downside was that after all the preparation and depositions, half the time the defendant would walk free or get a reduced sentence. Sometimes he wished for the days of '_cowboy justice'_ to reappear.

Marissa stood. "I'm ready. Let's get breakfast first. I really need four cups of coffee before I can get this day started."

"Four cups?"

"Don't judge." she said as she slipped on her gun holster and clipped her badge to her belt. "It's part of my job description."

Joe raised an eyebrow at her. He couldn't wait to hear the explanation for this.

Marissa grinned. "I'm much calmer when I'm filled with caffeine. It's like my Prozac, only tastier. A calm agent makes a more perceptive agent."

"You're weird."

"I've been called worse. One time someone actually called me mild-mannered." she said slipping on her coat.

Joe let out a snort of laughter. "Did they get to live afterwards?"

"Surprisingly yes. Seemed my knee was anxious to show their balls just how mild-mannered I really was."

"Ouch." Joe grimaced.

"Funny. That's the same thing Carlos said when it happened."

Joe stared at her as he tried to process what she had just said. "Wait. You kneed Manoso?

She nodded.

"And you're still alive?"

Marissa shrugged and smiled at him playfully. "More unusual things have happened. Plus, it helped that I had to leave for Virginia that same night. Nothing like time to clear a man's mind and let forgiveness reign free."

"And how long did the forgiveness last?"

She made a face at him. "Approximately one hour after I got back from Virginia the next day. I went to the office and was greeted by poster-sized pictures in the hallway and elevators of me waking up with a severe hangover. Not a pretty sight Morelli. It looked like I had two heads from the way my hair stood out on one side."

Joe chuckled. "I would never have pegged Manoso with a sense of humor."

Marissa grabbed her bag and headed to the door. "Neither did I. Which just goes to show that you never really know someone until they do the unexpected."

"What exactly are we going to the Field office to do?" Joe asked after they had breakfast at a nearby diner.

"I need to check my email."

"You can't do that at any computer terminal?" he asked as they walked to his SUV.

Marissa snorted. "I wish. They upgraded the system a few months ago. Now, not only is your password required and a fingerprint scan, but you also have to be at a federally identifiable terminal to access any FBI database."

Joe whistled. "How much did that upgrade cost?"

"Close to two million."

"Wow. Wish the TPD had that kind of budget."

"Don't let the glamour excite you. Half the time the system is down or frozen because of the complexity of the security codes. It once took me two days to get an email from the field office in Los Angeles. In the end I still had to call up the agent and have him fax me the information I needed."

"Sounds like a case of one step forward, two steps back."

"Indeed. I'm all for technology and moving forward, but I've learned that the best way to get any information is the old school way. And by old school I mean circa 1998. A fax and a telephone have never let me down yet."

Joe smiled as he beeped the SUV open. "What were you doing in 1998 Agent Carter?"

"Hmmm." she started thoughtfully as she climbed into the cab. "I would've been twenty-two and in college still. So I'll have to say that I was studying hard and trying not to get arrested by the NYPD."

Joe laughed as he got into the driver's side. "And what exactly were you not trying to get arrested for?"

"Sorry Morelli, but you're not entitled to those details. Those are classified."

"And what exactly do I have to do to get entitled to that information?"

"I don't know. Depends on how badly you want those details."

He gave her an appraising look and their eyes locked. "On a scale of one to ten regarding my desperation, I'd have to say seven."

"That's not bad enough. These details are kinda juicy and scandalous." she said coquettishly.

"Why Agent Carter, were you a bad girl?"

She bit back a smile. "No comment. Were you a bad boy?"

Joe slipped on his Oakleys and gave her a lopsided grin. "Let's just say that if we were having this conversation back then the words_ juicy_ and _scandalous_ would be verbs instead of adjectives."

Oh snap! Marissa thought as a smile broke out on her face.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Marissa's phone vibrated on her hip just as she was reading her last email. She was sitting at one of the desks that were primarily used for visiting agents. On it was a computer, notepads in varying degrees of use, stacks of Post-its, and a large pencil cup filled with pencils and pens. All field offices had a desk like this. It was a part of the FBI culture as a refrigerator was to a company's kitchen. Joe sat in a chair next to the desk reading one of the latest FBI press releases.

Marissa pulled the phone out of its holster "Carter." she answered, her eyes never leaving the screen.

"Good morning." Ranger's smooth, husky voice flowed in her ear.

A small smile curved her lips. "Good morning to you too."

"Slept well?"

"I slept."

The line was silent for a few seconds, then, "Where are you?"

"In a gun battle with a local street gang. Morelli's trying to hold them off with a rocket launcher we found in the Evidence Room."

"Mari..."

She chuckled. "Okay. Fine. We're at the Newark Field office. I'm catching up on some emails. Happy now?"

She heard a soft non-descript sound which she identified as the equivalent of a sigh for Ranger.

"What are your plans for the day?" he asked..

"Morelli and I are going to talk to the Gang Unit at the TPD and see if they recognize any characteristics about the way the victims were killed."

Joe looked at her with a confused look and mouthed _"We are?"_

She nodded.

"You have a theory?" Ranger asked.

"Nothing concrete yet. But this whole corpse-drug-mule business has me uneasy. It's one thing to hide drugs in inanimate objects, but when a body gets its organs hollowed out to be used as transport, I think we're dealing with some sick fuckers whom I don't want roaming the streets. This is some Jack the Ripper shit."

"What can I do to help?"

"You have enough going on Carlos. I'm sure..."

"I want to help." he interrupted tersely.

And she was appreciative that he wanted to. But she was still spinning in circles trying to get anywhere on the case. She had no leads, witnesses or evidence to point her in any direction. Plus, she was already feeling guilty dragging Morelli all over Trenton. He had better things to be doing rather than babysitting her.

No. She was not going to drag anyone else into this puzzle until she had something concrete to go on. A part of her wished that Bryan didn't have to go back to New York. He was the one constant she felt truly at ease with. No matter how crazy or boring things got he was always there to lessen the impact.

Carlos on the other hand...he made her feel things that were very _unprofessional._ He made her want the very things she had vowed never to let take over her life. But wanting something didn't necessarily mean that it was good for you. She knew that his emotional tolerance was every bit off kilter as hers. They didn't operate at _normal_ levels, both professionally and personally. Emotionally they weren't even compatible.

He was calculating, covert and able to shelve his emotions with ease. She was a tenacious, witty, a go-with-the-flow type of gal who sometimes wore her emotions on her sleeve. She stopped at crying in public though. That was just unacceptable. Tears were a sign of vulnerability in her eyes, and didn't belong in her line of work or lifestyle. The last time she cried was the night...

She shook her head violently to clear the memory. Now was not the time to bring up that up.

"I'll be fine Carlos." she said. "I promise I'll call you if I get overwhelmed. Don't get shot today."

She hung up and went back to reading her email.

"Don't get shot today? Is that FBI-speak for I love you?" Joe teased.

Marissa narrowed her eyes at him. "Jealous Morelli?"

"Of Manoso?" he scoffed. He narrowed his eyes at her. "Get real. I don't know what you women get out of all that Mysterio shit."

"Women like a man of mystery. It's a challenge to see if you could be the one to make him open up and reveal his deepest, darkest secrets."

"And you like that sorta thing?"

She waved a dismissive hand at him. "I don't have the patience or time for that. But I'm drawing a general reference here Morelli."

He didn't seem to be convinced.

"It all boils down to the fact that women like to solve problems. Let me give you an example." Marissa took one of the Post-it pads that was lying on the desk and began writing.

"An open, easily communicable, attentive man is as easy as solving this." She wrote down _1 + 1_.

"But a man who exudes this." On the pad she wrote _v(t) = r (t) = (x (t), y(t), z(t)) = (-asin(t), a cos(t), b)._ "Becomes an anomaly that women would go to the ends of the Earth to find out the solution for, even if it means emotionally extending themselves for a period of time."

Joe shook his head. "That's just sad. Men just put up that façade just to get some pussy. Underneath all that complexity is a guy who scratches his ass when he gets up, and needs almost a can of air freshener after he uses the bathroom. It's all a cover-up. He's as human as any other guy. By the way, great parametric equation visual."

Marissa's eyes went wide. "How did you know that was a parametric equation?"

"Had a class on it when I was in the Navy. And if I'm not mistaken, that particular equation calculates the velocity of a particle following a three-dimensional curve."

Marissa stared at him. "Joseph Morelli did you just go Einstein on me? If so I think I'm in love."

He grinned. "I bet you didn't see that one coming, huh? See? I can be mysterious."

Marissa smiled. "Yeah, but that doesn't count as I'm a nerd-boy lover. Brains over brawn is what gets me excited."

"You don't come across as a pocket-protector admirer." he said giving her an assessing look.

"How do I come across?"

"Well judging from all that I've seen go down between you and Manoso, I'd have to say you like the action-hero type."

"Nothing has been _going down_ between Carlos and I."

"_I promise I'll call you if I get overwhelmed. Don't get shot today."_ He mimicked in a falsetto voice.

Marissa threw the Post-it pad at him, hitting him in the chest. "That was business."

"Right."

She stared at him thoughtfully. "Maybe that's the solution to your problem. Maybe you need an air of mystery."

Joe made a face. "I'll pass."

"Steph might like it." she added coyly.

Joe eyed her suspiciously. "We not together anymore so it doesn't matter."

Marissa waved a dismissive hand at him. "Of course it matters. I saw the way you two were looking at each other last night."

"What way?" Joe ducked his head and pretended to be engrossed in the memo in his hand as flashes of the scene on his kitchen table ran uncomfortably through his head.

"Uh huh. Anyway Morelli, all I'm saying is give it a try. You have nothing to lose. It'll be a win-win situation for you if it pans out."

But Joe knew there was a lot to lose...especially on his part. Steph was the only woman he'd truly loved. And he didn't know if he could survive going through another break up with her if he did go through with what Marissa was suggesting. No, he wasn't going to risk that. This time the ball was in Steph's court, and if she wanted him she was going to have to make the first move.

"This is the Gang Unit?" Marissa asked as she looked around the cramped windowless space.

There were four desks in the room. Each desk had a paper mound that competed against the other, and behind one of the mounds a phone was ringing. There was no one in the room, but signs of life were all around; a radio played softly, filling the dismal space with melodic sounds.

In one corner near a window stood a fichus plant that despite its dreary habitat looked healthy and thriving. A large cork board covered in maps, mug shots, newspaper clippings and FBI Most Wanted posters occupied an adjacent wall. The smell of coffee, cigarettes and perseverance hung heavily in the air, and Marissa tried to picture the people that inhabited the space. Whoever they were they she already liked them.

They were in the bowels of the TPD building. To get to where they were she and Joe had taken two flights of stairs down, and went through a door that looked liked it belonged in a dungeon rather than in a building built less than twelve years ago.

"Don't let the atmosphere fool you. These guys are on top of their game." Joe said as he sat down on a tattered leather sofa near the door.

Marissa studied one of the paper mounds closest to her and pulled a sheet off the top. It was a coroner's report page that informed her that Julius Norman, age twenty-one, male and of African-American decent, had died due to multiple gunshot wounds. He was found on the corner of Stark and Pickering on December 18th 2008.

Marissa sighed and put the sheet back. No Christmas for him. Shame.

"Where is everyone?" she asked Joe as she sat down next to him.

He shrugged. "Probably in a briefing. I'm sure they won't be long."

"You come down here a lot?"

He leaned his head back and closed his eyes. "Depends on how shitty my day unfolds."

"Meaning?"

He huffed out a heavy sigh. "Lots of homicides to cover, especially during a full moon and the first of the month."

"Explain that to me?"

He opened his eyes and turned his gaze on her. "Welfare checks come in the mail close to the first of the month. Some people use it to feed their children and families, other use it to buy drugs. I've seen a lot of buys gone bad. The worst are when kids get caught in the crossfire."

Marissa noticed his eyes took on a far-away look, as though he was reliving the scenes.

He continued talking. "When it's a full moon it seems people's emotions come rushing up to the surface. Stabbings and gunshot wounds usually go up by at least four percent. One night I got called to three stabbings and two drive-bys. The paperwork was a bitch. Fortunately the guys here in the Gang Unit had some insight that saved me hours of interviewing witnesses. In less than a week I had all the stabbing suspects in custody and an arrest warrant for one of the drive-bys. I bought the rounds that night at the bar."

Marissa nodded her head in understanding. "It's great when an investigation comes together because of good police work. I just hope they can help me out."

Joe reached over and rubbed her arm. "Don't stress too much about it. If they can't we'll find some other way."

Marissa watched his hand moving along her arm and was suddenly aware on how potently male he was. His strong forearm was covered in a light sprinkling of fine brown hair, and the heat from his hand permeated the fabric of her turtleneck. The gesture was meant to comfort, but it was igniting a disturbingly delicious tingle that started from the point of contact and fanned out all the way to her uterus. She bit down on her lower lip to keep from moaning out loud, and was about to jerk her arm away when the door opened and three casually dressed men strolled into the space, each talking louder than the next.

"Hey!" Joe yelled over the din. "Don't you fuckers ever shut up?"

All eyes turned to the leather sofa. The taller of the men, an angular-faced African-American male, who Marissa guessed to be in his mid-thirties, was the first to speak.

"What the fuck you doing here Morelli? We already told you your pussy-ass belongs upstairs. Down here is the Gladiators' Pit."

"Gladiators' Pit my ass. You don't even know how to spell gladiator." Morelli scoffed. "And watch your mouth, we have a lady present."

All eyes shifted to Marissa. She smiled and stood up, at the same time holding her hand out. "Hi. I'm Special Agent Marissa Carter from the New York Field office."

Heyman was the first to grasp onto her outstretched hand. "Well, well, well, it's rare we get such a beautiful woman visiting us. Nice to meet you Agent Carter. I'm Detective Deryck Heyman. These other assholes are Detective Pete Sanchez." The fair-skinned, heavily built man with a buzz cut, who stood to the left of Detective Heyman, nodded. "And Detective Carl Sosmos."

The tall, white man with blonde hair, who Marissa thought could pass as Joe's brother, smiled at her and said "Welcome to our crypt."

"Thank you."

"Let go of her damn hand already you pervert." Sanchez said to Heyman. "Feel free to press federal charges Agent Carter. Lord knows he needs some jail time."

Marissa was enjoying their playful banter. It reminded her of being back at the office in New York with the members of her Unit, Special Agents DeChooch, Newton and Hawkins. She missed them.

"Detective Morelli tells me that you guys may be able to help shed some light on a case I'm working on."

"Is that so?" Heyman said, as he took a seat behind one of the desks closest to the corkboard. "Is your case gang related?"

Marissa sat back down on the couch. "I'm not sure. Here's what I know so far."

She went on to tell them about the bodies found floating near Coney Island, and the marks on the body found at the port. She described the similarities in the wounds, and her suspicions that one entity was responsible for both incidents.

Sosmos was the first to speak when she was done. "As crude and as dangerous the gangs that we know about are, this is the first I'm hearing about using bodies as transport vessels. That's some morbid, fucked up shit."

"Yeah. It doesn't fit into how most of the gangs we're aware about operate their drug trade." Heyman chimed in. "This feels dark."

"Have you been able to identify the victims?" Sanchez asked from his perch near the fichus tree.

"That's the thing, no matches in any database. My partner and I think they might be illegal immigrants. North Atlantic regions possibly, as the bodies were Caucasian."

"Any other identifiers?" Heyman asked.

Marissa shook her head. "No tattoos, piercings, scars or birthmarks. It's like they didn't exist until they were found floating in the water. My partner and I also think that where ever the bodies were going to couldn't have been far, as a corpse doesn't travel long distances well without some type of preservation method, and no traces of embalming fluid were found in any of the victims."

"How did the bodies get in the water?' Sanchez asked.

Marissa shrugged. "I don't know yet. No accident reports about vehicles or boats in the surrounding areas showed up. We checked with the Coast Guard but there were no records of suspicious vessels in the area."

"Just your regular unsolved mystery." Joe said. "I'm surprised you guys haven't heard any noise about any lost shipments. What was packed in those bodies had to be worth at least half a mil. If I lost that amount of money you'd be damn sure to hear my mouth."

"Doesn't matter with you Morelli, we hear your damn mouth almost every fucking day." Sanchez said.

"At least what I say comes out from my mouth and not from my ass, unlike you." Joe shot back.

Laughter filled the room, but Marissa didn't join in she was busy running what Joe said through her head. Then a thought hit her like ton of bricks.

"Oh my God! That's it!" she exclaimed as she flew off the couch. The men looked at her. "Whoever lost the bodies has to be kicking up a stink somewhere."

"And how are you going to find out if they are if you don't know even who they are?" Heyman asked.

Marissa smiled. "Easy. You go to the one place that always has its ears to the drug underground. The DEA."

The men looked at each other then back at her.

"Doesn't that require some type of inter-departmental request and approval?" Joe asked.

"Sure it does, if you were to go through the regular channels."

"And I take it you know a shortcut." Sosmos said.

"Even better." Marissa replied as her smile got wider. "I know an undercover agent who owes me a favor."


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

As Ranger strapped on his Kevlar his mind replayed the conversation he'd had with Marissa earlier on that morning.

"_I'll be fine Carlos. I promise I'll call you if I get overwhelmed. Don't get shot today."_

He shook his head. He knew calling him was the last thing she would do if she got into trouble. Lord knew the woman had a knack for getting into the most dangerous situations without even trying. Special agent or not, the fact was she could still get seriously hurt if the right psychopath came her way. Yes, she was trained and skilled in the art of combat and tactical defense, but a bullet wound was a bullet wound no matter how you spun it. He should know.

He slipped on his gun holster, checked his SIG Sauer and Glock, and strapped his hunting knife to his ankle. He was dressed.

Tank walked into the room. "Going out Rangeman?"

"Got a lead on Machado."

"Who you rollin' with?"

"Hal and Santos." Ranger replied as he scooped up extra boxes of ammunition.

"Don't get shot."

Ranger stilled and turned to Tank. "That's the same thing Mari said."

"The woman knows you of course she would say that." Tank said.

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"It means she's been in enough take downs and gun battles with you to know the extent of your combat mode."

"Combat mode?"

"Yeah...you know what? Never mind." Tank waved a dismissive hand at him. "What's Mari's plan for today?'

"She's with Morelli."

"Ah. Funny how all the women in your life are always _with Morelli_."

Ranger leveled his patented blank look on him.

Tank shook his head. "You can front all you want Rangeman, but the truth is I know you're afraid of where things could go with either Steph or Mari. You love them both, and it's obvious that they love you too. So as your best friend I'm advising you to pick one, then let the chips fall where they may. They know who you are on the inside, but it's hard for them to show you when you keep shutting them out."

Ranger shook his head. "Leave it alone Tank. I know how to handle my personal business."

"Is that what you call it?" Tank snorted. "It's more like fucking it up from where I'm standing. And don't even try to use that fucking glare shit on me. We go too far back for that. Plus I've seen you naked."

"Who's seen who naked?" Lester asked as he ambled into the room dressed also in Kevlar and holding a shotgun.

"When it comes to you Santos the question is usually who haven't you seen naked." Tank answered.

"And your point is what?" Lester asked innocently.

Tank shook his head.

"You ready Bossman?" Lester asked Ranger, who was tightening the straps on his vest.

Ranger nodded and they headed out the door.

"Think about what I said." Tank said to Ranger when he brushed past him.

Ranger nodded his head slightly acknowledging that he would, but Tank knew that the outcome was going to be the same as always—total denial.

Joe watched as Marissa took a deep inhale of breath then let it out through her mouth. She straightened her shoulders, then punched some numbers into her phone and held it to her ear. From her carriage he could tell that she was nervous, and whoever she was calling was the reason for her jitteriness. Very interesting. He didn't think she ever got frazzled by anything or anyone. Another side to the Marissa Carter dynamic he was learning so much about.

They were seated in his SUV in the TPD's parking lot after having left the Gang Unit a few minutes ago.

"It's me." she said softly as she looked out the passenger side window.

She pause for a few seconds then, "I need your help."

Her voice sounded strained, as though asking for help was killing her on the inside. Whoever was on the other end of the phone probably didn't even know the kind of power they had over her. He had asked who the undercover DEA agent was but all she told him was _"A friend."_

But from what he was seeing it seems this _friend_ had a way of getting beneath her tough exterior.

He wondered just what type of individual was that brave. Her voice broke into his thoughts.

"I need to know if you found out anything about the floaters I told you about."

Her fingers picked nervously at the hem of her coat. "I know you told me by the end of the week, but another body was found floating in Jersey. Near the Port. I'm down here now looking into things, but I'm running out of time. I only have two days to sort the details out."

Joe watched as she raised her head and looked at him. She offered him a thin, tight smile that didn't reach her eyes. He smiled back. Making his eyes go soft; trying to reassure without saying anything. She turned and looked out the window again.

"I need to know if there's been any chatter on the wires or in your circles about losing a shipment. Nothing, huh? Yes, I know this is short notice for you, but like I told you before I have a small window of opportunity here, and we're trying to plug as many holes as we can."

She listened again then let out a heavy sigh and rubbed her forehead in a frustrated gesture. The hand that was picking at the hem of her coat earlier on was now balled up into a fist, and Joe could feel the anger radiating out from her.

"No Anderson is not with me. He was, but had to go back to get ready for a case. Does it even fucking matter if he's here with me or not? I called to ask you for help, not to hear you gripe about not giving you enough time. I don't give a fuck! My ass is on the line here. So it's either you're going to help or not. Don't waste my fucking time." She listened for a few seconds, then, "Fine!"

She pressed the End button so hard Joe thought she was trying to break it. He watched with concerned eyes as she threw the phone on the floor of the truck, then slammed her fist down on the dashboard with such force that Joe thought the airbag would pop out at any moment.

"Are you alright?" he asked cautiously.

She flung her head back against the head rest and closed her eyes. "I'll be fine. Just give me a moment."

He watched as her chest heaved as she took deep calming breaths. Seeming to get herself and her anger under control she opened her eyes and stared at him sheepishly. "Sorry. Didn't mean for you to witness that."

"Are you sure he's a friend of yours?" Joe asked skeptically.

"In a vague way, yes. Unfortunately our friendship doesn't exactly extend to gestures of caring and love. It's more of a...working friendship."

"And I take it this _friendship_ happened under duress or some other dark force?"

She let out a sound between a laugh and a sigh. "You sure are one perceptive man."

"Thanks. But perception only gets me so far."

"Are we talking professionally or personally?"

He gave her a pointed look. "Does it matter?"

She shrugged nonchalantly. "I guess not seeing as all you have to do is use your boyish charm to get what you want anyway."

"Boyish charm? Does it work on you?" he asked teasingly.

She shook her head. "Sadly no. I'm more used to the strong, silent type."

"Like Manoso?"

She rolled her eyes. "Carlos is not the only strong and silent man I know Morelli. There are lots of them in my line of work."

"Yeah, but how many of those make your voice go all girly and high pitched?'

"I do not get girly and high-pitched." she argued.

"Oh yeah? _I'll be fine Carlos. Don't get shot today Carlos._" he said in an exaggerated high-pitched feminine voice.

She punched him in the arm. "Asshole."

Joe laughed, relieved that her black mood was gone. He liked this Marissa Carter much better.

He started the SUV and his police scanner instantly began to chirp. According to the dispatcher there was a possible 10-34 in progress. In police code jargon a 10-34 usually meant that a riot or an assault was in progress.

Joe and Marissa listened as the dispatcher rambled the address out then said, "All units please be advised that RangeMan Security personnel maybe involved."

Joe and Marissa looked at each other wide-eyed.

"You heard the woman Morelli. Let's go." Marissa said excitedly.

"We're not going anywhere Carter. My orders were to give you help on the case we're working on, not going out on calls. So unless we get a call that another body has been found ripped open and stuffed with drugs this vehicle is not going anywhere near that address."

Marissa scowled at him. "We're not going there to get involved Morelli."

His skepticism was displayed openly on his face.

"We're going there to observe." she explained. "How often do you get to go to a 10-34 and just stay in the background while other cops do all the work? For me that would have to be never. It would be like a field trip. Come on. What do you say?"

Joe seemed to mull this over for a few seconds, and Marissa hoped that he would side with her. If Ranger and the guys were involved in some kind of altercation, she wanted to have a front row seat for all the action she knew would be associated with it...even if she had to walk.

Finally Joe said, "Okay. But we don't get out of the vehicle."

"But..."

"We. Don't. Get. Out. The. Vehicle." he reiterated firmly.

Marissa huffed out a sigh. "Okay. Fine. But I will need a cup of coffee in order to make me stay put."

Joe shook his head. "Has anyone ever told you that your caffeine intake might kill you one day?"

"The real question here Morelli is if I have ever listed to what anyone ever tells me. Now drive."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

Ranger was beginning to get the mother of all headaches. How could a perfectly good takedown go to shit in a matter of minutes? Their intel on Machado had been sound. He was at his girlfriend's house. But what Ranger and his team didn't know was that he was there for his daughter's the christening.

Imagine Ranger's surprise when he stormed in, guns drawn, and was greeted by at least fifty stunned faces, including Machado's. Not one to let a family gathering get in his way of an apprehension Ranger announced "Bond enforcement! Victor Machado you're in violation of your bond agreement! You're gonna have to come with us!"

A two second silence filled the room then all hell had broken loose. People started yelling, women started hitting Lester with their purses, and the men began throwing chairs at Ranger and Hal. As he was ducking behind the couch to go for cover Ranger saw Machado run to the back of the house. He had tried to follow, but the minute he got up from his barricade a slew of cooking pots and ceramic figurines came flying towards him.

He looked to where Lester had been a few seconds ago hoping that he had somehow managed to break free from the handbag beatdown. But his hopes were quickly dashed when he saw Lester was now trapped in a corner of the living room trying to block a gold purse from cracking his head open. What a clusterfuck this was turning out to be. Dios le ayuda!

Over the screaming, shouting and cursing he had called RangeMan to request backup. Tank took the call and said he would be there with the rest of the guys in ten minutes. It was the longest ten minutes of Ranger's life. Fortunately, in that space of time he managed to wrangle Lester free from his the handbag smackdown, and with the help of Hal and a small coffee table they converted into a shield, they made it to the front door and into Ranger's SUV.

Unfortunately, the minute the doors were locked the angry mob converged upon them and started rocking the vehicle and banging on the windows. A plastic garbage can hit the windshield, disfiguring the wipers and breaking the antenna, and Ranger was thankful that he had opted to upgrade to the bulletproof and shatterproof windows when he had acquired the vehicle a few months back.

Ranger turned to Lester. "You alright man?"

"I'll live." Lester said as he touched his left eye which was beginning to swell. He had small cuts all over his face and on the back of his hands long, angry looking scrapes had taken up residence.

"Where did Machado go?" Hal asked as he gave the finger to one of the men who were banging on the windows.

"Not our concern anymore." Ranger answered as he looked out at the angry mob. "Tank and Cal should be here soon and they'll take over the search. For now, we wait out the crowd."

In the distance he heard sirens. Fuck! Who called the cops? It had to be one of the guests or the neighbors. His day had now officially turned to shit. The paperwork he knew he would have to fill out about the incident was now taunting him like a booby prize. He scrubbed a hand roughly over his face and tried to get his frustration under control. A few minutes later he saw, and heard, the squad cars as they began to pull up on the street. Gradually the unruly crowd began to thin out as the officers fought their way through and started shoving and pulling people away from the SUV.

Carl Costanza's face appeared at the window next to him. Ranger powered down the window.

"Got a 10-34 call." Costanza said. He looked back at the crowd of people now being herded onto the sidewalk by the rest of the officers. "I'm gonna let you tell your side first before I deal with the angry citizens that called this in."

Ranger suppressed a sigh. "We were making an apprehension."

"Who?"

"Victor Machado. He escaped while we were being attacked."

"Should I call it in?" Carl asked with a concerned frown. Machado was no stranger to the TPD. His rap sheet was ten pages long and took up half a file cabinet in the Violent Crimes Unit file drawers.

"We've got it covered." Ranger answered stoically as he saw three RangeMan vehicles pull up behind the police cars. Tank, Cal, Ram, Bobby, Woody and Zero stepped out of them and surveyed the scene before they began walking towards Ranger's SUV.

It came as no surprise when the crowd parted to let the men in black through. There was a reason armies wore uniforms. Uniforms suggested power and numbers. This in turn inspired fear; and there wasn't a more effective weapon than fear. It also helped that none of Ranger's men were under six feet and weighed no less than 220lbs. Ranger, Lester and Hal got out the truck and waited.

"Looks like I missed out on the fun." Tank said with a small smile when he approached him.

Ranger scowled at him. "Brown, take Santos and get him cleaned up. Woody, you and Zero start a ten block perimeter search for Machado. Consider him armed and dangerous. Use necessary force if you have to."

"Tank, you and the rest of the guys stay with me to question the girlfriend and the other family members to see if we can get a handle on where Machado might go."

"What about your fan club over there?' Tank asked he looked past Ranger's shoulder.

"What fan club?" Ranger asked, and turned see what Tank was staring at.

Marissa and Joe were seated in Joe's SUV drinking coffee and taking in the scene with great interest. His eyes caught Marissa's and she lifted her coffee cup up in a mock salute and smiled at him. Ranger bit back a curse as he felt the pain in his head ratchet up a notch.

"When did they get here?" he snapped.

"They were here when we pulled up." Ram supplied.

Fuck! What the hell was she doing here? She was supposed to be at the field office in Newark, not in the middle of his disastrous day. A uniformed officer approached the group and announced that he was there to take Lester's statement of what had happened. No one moved, and Ranger realized that they were waiting for him to give his consent.

One of the rules of working at RangeMan was that no one gave statements to law enforcement, the press or any other media source without Ranger's approval. Disregarding this policy was grounds for suspension or termination depending on the severity of the situation. To date RangeMan Inc., only had one such incident on their employment record.

The incident happened four years ago in the firm's infancy, when an employee spoke with a reporter after a minor altercation between a suspect and one of Ranger's men. The next day an article appeared in the Trenton Daily News and painted RangeMan in a very unfavorable light, citing them as _"a group of rouge ex-army enforcers who have no concept of living life away from a war zone."_ Since then all new employees had to sign confidentiality agreements and a clause written into their employment contract stating that if they violated the agreement they could be, and would be, fined up to $50,000. It was a hefty penalty, but Ranger knew it was the only way to enforce the severity of the employee's action.

He nodded his head slightly at Lester indicating his consent. He was about to call his lawyer to find out what the company's insurance policy covered as far as third party incidents, when two more uniformed officers approached him with the intent on taking his statement along with Hal's.

Ranger knew this was standard police protocol, but he couldn't help the annoyance that washed over him, especially when he knew Marissa was half a block away watching the entire ordeal go down.

For the past month or so, with the exception of the night he picked her up at the hospital, he had been keeping her at arm's length. He had avoided some of her calls, disregarded most of her text messages, and always came up with _something more urgent_ that needed his attention. Now here she was in his town, partnered up with Joe Morelli and looking like they were long lost friends.

He remembered a time when he and Marissa looked like that. When all he wanted was to get her naked and hear her screaming out his name. What happened to them? She didn't deserve the treatment he had been giving her lately. He wanted to blame it on work, and the fact that he was trying to work through his feelings for Stephanie. But in the end it all boiled down to him just being plain scared of falling for a woman who wasn't fazed or awed by his tough exterior, and the nonchalant way he expressed his views on relationships.

As he started to give his version of the events to the attentive officer, Ranger knew he had to stop being an ass before the damage he'd done to his friendship with Marissa became severe enough for her to completely shut him out of her life. He slid a glance over to where she sat with Joe, and watched with a heavy heart as she laughed at something he said to her. He prayed that he wasn't too late.

Marissa sipped on the robust, fragrant brew of her coffee and relished in the warm trail it left as it slid down her throat. They had stopped at the Tasty Pastry to get a couple of donuts and coffee before arriving at the scene of the chaos. Joe had gotten them a great spot to view all of the action as it went down. They were approximately half a block away; not too far away from the action, but not too close that they would be trampled on by the angry mob. They had arrived just in time to see a crush of people converge upon a black SUV, which Marissa knew belonged to RangeMan, and tried rock it off its wheels.

"Wow." Marissa said. "Seems like they really pissed off these people."

Joe took a sip of his coffee. "From the looks of it, I'll say this was either some type of party or family gathering. See how the people are dressed?"

She scanned the crowd. Some of the women were in formal pants suits and structured dresses, while the others wore prom type dresses. All of them wore stilettos, and one woman was using hers to try and break the glass of one of the windows of the black SUV. The men wore dress pants topped with turtlenecks and their shoe styles ranged from cowboy boots to dress shoes and sneakers.

From her vantage point Marissa could see a few people talking and gesturing wildly while they spoke into their cell phones. On the porch of one house, a young woman was crying hysterically while holding a baby dressed in a white gown.

"It was a christening." Marissa said. "They crashed a christening."

"Hmmm." Joe said. "I don't envy them. In this part of town families take great pride and participation in events like that. You don't want to barge in on a Latino celebration with guns drawn. Things go quickly down-hill from there."

Marissa turned to him. "And you know this how?"

Joe pointed to his forehead. "See that scar?"

Marissa leaned in and peered at the small scar just above his left temple.

"Got that at a Quinceañera."

"Ouch."

"Yeah. It was hectic. I even got a tiara thrown at me."

Marissa shook her head in sympathy. "Poor Morelli. Must be traumatic knowing you were almost taken out by a fifteen year old girl. How do you sleep at night?"

Joe scowled at her then turned back to the scene. "Looks like your boyfriend is gonna be tied up all day with this mess."

It was Marissa's turn to scowl. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Lover, stud-muffin, friend with benefits, homeboy, then?"

Marissa laughed. "Homeboy?"

Joe shrugged nonchalantly. "I threw that one in for good measure."

"Funny, but there's nothing on Carlos that screams homeboy."

Joe snorted. "Yeah I'm sure."

"No need to be jealous Morelli, nothing on you screams homeboy either." Marissa said playfully as she took a sip from her cup and studied the scene.

"Then what do I scream?"

"Handbag!" Marissa yelled as she dropped her coffee cup, opened the door and jumped from the SUV.

"Handbag?' Joe repeated with an incredulous look on his face.

"Santos! Look out!" Marissa yelled as she began unholstering her gun.

Joe looked up just in time to see a sturdy looking Spanish woman walking quickly towards Lester as she swung her purse furiously in front of her.

"Carter! No!" he yelled as he scrambled from the truck and lunged at her. He locked her arms at her sides in a bear hug.

Ranger who had been standing a few feet from Lester saw the woman approaching with a look of fury on her face.

"Fuck." he breathed, momentarily stunning the officer who was taking his statement.

"Santos!" Ranger yelled. "Duck!"

Lester looked stunned for a second before his muscle memory kicked in and he dropped to the ground with his arms over his head in a protective measure. He heard an "offff" sound, then a woman screaming "Get off me!" He looked through the barrier of his arms to see a woman in her mid-fifties being dragged away by two cops.

"You okay soldier?" Ranger asked as he approached him.

"Holy shit!" Lester exclaimed as he stood up. "That was close."

"Not the first time you pissed a woman off." Ranger said with a slight smile.

"Yeah, but usually it's after I've seen her naked."

Bobby came running up to them. "Christ Santos, I won't have enough bandages if you keep this up."

"Me? I was just standing there. Spanish women are crazy yo."

"Hey boss." Bobby said looking off into the distance. "Check it out."

Ranger turned and saw Marissa struggling against Joe who had her secured against his body with his arms tightly around her. She looked pissed, and Joe was telling her something that only seemed to piss her off more. She tilted her head up and glared at him before saying something. Joe said something back to her and she nodded. He held onto her for a few seconds longer before releasing her. He then placed his hand on the small of her back and guided her back to his truck.

"What was that all about?" Bobby asked.

"Looks like Carter was coming to Santos' rescue." Ranger said his keen eyes still on Joe and Marissa.

"That's my girl." Lester said proudly with a grin.

"Then why did Morelli stop her?" Bobby asked.

Ranger took his time answering. "For her own good."


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12: Chapter 12**

"Let go of me Morelli!" Marissa said through clenched teeth as she struggled to get out of his vise-like grip. Joe's muscles bunched and flexed as he held on to her. "No. The agreement was you don't leave the vehicle. Plus, Santos doesn't need your help. He's got his boys."

Marissa tried to pull away from him again. "Let go of me!"

"I'm not getting involved in this, and neither are you. If you want to help do it when we're off duty."

There was a finality in his voice.

Marissa tilted her head up and glared at him. "Fine. Now let me go."

"Don't go over there Carter." Joe warned in a low, serious voice. "I'm already in the shit house with Targa. I don't need you bringing more heat my way. Got it?"

Marissa studied him for a few seconds, gauging his demeanor. She didn't want to get Joe in trouble, but at the same time she felt helpless at not being able to do anything. This feeling was new to her. She had always helped. But then again, most times her helping got her into trouble with her boss. And since she already had such limited time to gather any intel out here in Trenton, she knew getting mixed up in a situation that had nothing to do with her was the most foolish thing she could do.

"I got it." she said reluctantly.

She relaxed her body and leaned back against Joe. His arms flexed around her and his warmth permeated through the thick fabric of her coat. For a second Marissa didn't want him to let go. She heard him make a nondescript low noise at the back of his throat, and then he released her but didn't stop touching her.

His hand moved to the small of her back and Marissa tried to tamp down the feeling of butterflies in her stomach as he guided her back to the SUV. Something had happened between them when he was restraining her. Something confusing and very primal. But with Joe Morelli?

True, she had known him for a few years, but this was the first time that they had worked so closely together. And yes, he was a very attractive man but she was only there for a couple more days and then God only knew when she would be back in New Jersey, much less Trenton. And then there was Carlos. She and Carlos were...

What were she and Carlos? Even more important, where did she fit into his life? This past month their _relationship_ had been pretty murky. Even murkier than before they had started being _more than friends_. And now here she was having inappropriate thoughts about Morelli. Good grief! She really had to cut down on her caffeine intake.

Joe wanted to kick himself. Why did he touch her? Why did he have to fucking touch her? Thank God his coat was long enough to hide the evidence of his arousal otherwise he would have been trying to explain to Marissa, with obvious embarrassment, as to why he was currently pitching a tent in his pants.

He was doing perfectly fine until he touched her. And when she started wiggling against him he had almost lost it. God! What was wrong with him? He was acting like some freaking teenager. The worst part was when she leaned back into him and he pull her tighter against him. His common sense then finally kicked in, and his lust-filled brain got a shot of clarity.

He had released her but not before he realized that Ranger and his men were taking in the scene with great interest. Great. What was it about this woman that made him do the most stupidest things? They'd been working together for two days now and he found himself doing and saying things he never would have.

Yes, they had worked together a few years back, but at that time he had been solely focused on making things work with Stephanie. That night at the bar when they had celebrated the successful capture of Tom Jackson and were three sheets to the wind, he had enjoyed the feel of her when she had fallen onto his lap. Maybe it was the alcohol. Maybe it was the fact that she was so carefree in the moment. But whatever it was he didn't have a chance to explore it because Ranger had yanked her off of him and guided her out of the bar.

He realized at the time it was for the best. Things were relatively new with Stephanie, and they were in the beginning stages of their relationship. A one night stand would've fucked it up for everybody. But yet still, from time to time, he often wondered about that night. The mystery of the possibilities on how far they would've taken their flirtatious behavior always lingered in the recesses of his mind. Now here she was again, and he was single and she was...

That was the million dollar question. Did she have someone back in New York? Was she seriously involved with Manoso? He'd seen the looks they'd exchange, heard the flirty banter of their conversations, and sensed the sexual energy between them.

But yet, Joe still felt there was_ something_ intangible between him and Marissa. Something that bubbled to the surface when they were in close proximity to each other. But even though his dick was urging him on to pursue it, his brain was telling him to don't even think about going down that street.

After his breakup with Stephanie he was much more obliged now to let his brain take over. He was a new Joe. A thinking Joe. Albeit a boring Joe; but there was less chance of his heart getting broken again.

Marissa's phone chirped breaking into his thoughts.

"Carter." she answered as she leaned against the SUV. Then, "Uh huh."

Her eyes grew wide. "What's their name? Russian you say? Text me the info and I'll check it out."

She turned her back to Joe then said in a soft tone. "Thank you for doing this for me." Then she hung up.

"Good news?" Joe asked when she faced him again. He was determined to bring some normalcy back between them.

"Could be. My source may have something for us. He says there a Russian gang that's had some extra chatter on their line since last week."

"Russian? That's a group you don't hear about every day."

Marissa nodded. "Seems there may be a small group here in East Trenton."

"East Trenton? That's mainly Crips territory. But then again, two years ago the TPD did a major sweep in Wilbursection and arrested the majority of the gang, so maybe the Russians saw an open market and made it work for them." Joe said thoughtfully.

"Do you think Detective Heyman might know something?" she asked hopefully.

Joe opened the driver side door and smiled. "I think the better question is what doesn't Detective Heyman know? Plus, whatever he doesn't just think of all the fun we can have by finding out for ourselves."

Marissa smiled back at him. "I like how you think Detective Morelli."

"Is that all you like?" he shot back playfully. Hopefully.

Their flirty banter was back.

"The jury's still out on that one. But so far I have no complaints. Maybe you can show me more of your _thoughts_ before I leave on Friday."

His eyes widened fractionally at the innuendo in the invitation, but he was determined to appear calm and unaffected by the wondrously exciting woman standing less than two feet in front of him.

"I don't know." he said with feigned skepticism. "They're pretty big thoughts to handle."

"Is that so? Something to look forward to then." she tossed over her shoulder before climbing in the truck.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13**

Marissa tried to tamp down the hopeless feeling rising up within her as she stared at the computer screen. For the past two hours she and Joe had gone through every database, file and register looking for information on the Russian gang they suspected were responsible for the bodies in the water. According to Detective Heyman, the Zamochit gang was possibly sophisticated and vicious enough to pull off such a ghoulish feat. The gang took their name from a murder ritual that was practiced by the members of the Red Mafiya. Zamochit meant _"the breaking of bones",_ and according to some of the gang members rap sheets, that's exactly how they spread their blanket of fear and intimidation on the streets of East Trenton.

She dropped her head dejectedly towards her chest and let out a loud sigh. "This is impossible. We're never going to find anything by sitting here."

Joe looked across the desk at her, and closed the file he was reading. "Street time?"

Marissa stretched her arms over her head and arched her back. Her gun dug into her hip and she winced. "It would seem so. But first we need to get to a computer that has better search programs than the ones we've been using. These are good, but it's not giving me the information I want."

"What are you suggesting? The field office?" He looked at his watch. "Still early enough for us to drive over there."

Marissa shook her head and began taking off her holster. "I was thinking closer."

"How close?'

"RangeMan."

"Uh huh. Think again."

"Come on Morelli. The programs there are just as good and probably even better than those at the field office. Carlos only uses the best." she said as she draped the holster on the back of the chair.

Joe shot her a pointed look. "You don't say."

"Be nice Morelli." she said with a smile as she began gathering the files on the desk and stacking them in a neat pile.

"That is me being nice." he said.

She raised a skeptical eyebrow at him.

He closed the file he was reading and added it to Marissa's pile. A muscle flexed furiously on his jaw. "Manoso and I have a...an understanding. Ever since Steph..."

Marissa raised her hand, palms facing out. "Stop. I don't wanna know about the dick wars between you and Carlos."

Joe glared at her. "I was going to say that ever since Steph and I broke up I don't feel the need, or really want to be in the same space as she and Ranger."

"You were there yesterday." Marissa pointed out.

"I had no other choice but to be there. Someone had to be the sane one in the group. But as of…" Joe looked at his watch, "Forty-five minutes ago, I'm off the clock. So whatever vigilante action you had planned for tonight would have to be done solo. Try not to get killed."

"Vigilante action? I'll have you know that everything I've done so far is within FBI protocol." she argued.

"Yeah right. Like the Thermite?"

"No, that was just my genius at work." Marissa said with a smug smile.

Joe shook his head ruefully and stood up. "And this is why I'm going home. Cause something tells me that your _genius_ state of mind is always at work."

She shrugged. "It's a gift. Hey do you have a spare holster I can use? Mine is tearing at the strap and it's digging into my side."

Joe opened a draw at the bottom of the desk and pulled out a worn-looking black leather holster. "It's a little beat up, but there are no tears in it."

"Works for me." Marissa said and proceeded to transfer her gun to it.

As she put the holster on she stared at Joe with a thoughtful look. "So let me get this straight. You're gonna go home to your little house, eat some pathetic bachelor meal, and watch some gladiator sport on TV because you're afraid you might actually get to do some real investigative policing?"

Joe narrowed his eyes at her. "I know what you're doing. And as sure as I'm gonna walk out that door in the next five seconds let me tell you that it's not working."

"What's not working?" she asked going for innocence.

"This ploy you have going to get me to come with you to RangeMan."

"Oh, so now I have a ploy. All I did was suggest that we go there to get some research done. You're the one who started spouting on and on about Stephanie and Carlos and emotions."

Joe stood with his hands on his hips glaring down at her. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again. Finally he said "Forget it." and stalked off towards the exit.

Marissa couldn't believe he was actually leaving. "Morelli! Wait!"

"See you tomorrow Carter." he said over his shoulder as he picked up his pace.

Crap! She thought as she watched his retreating back.

_That's what you get for having a big mouth_, a voice said in her head. _Next time do the teasing after you get the favor done. _

With a sigh Marissa pulled out her cell phone and dialed. He picked up after two rings.

"Yeah."

"Wow, you must have graduated from Oscar the Grouch's School of Manners." she said teasingly.

His voice softened. "Mari, what can I do for you?"

"I need to come over to use a few of your databases."

"What? The FBI's cutting back in the recession?" Tank asked with a chuckle.

"Ha, ha. No. I just don't want to leave any footprints on what I'm working on if you know what I mean."

"Okay, I'll reserve an office for you."

"Is he back yet?"

She didn't have to say the name for Tank to know who she was asking about.

"Not yet. He had to pick up some skips. He's running a little late after the whole Machado incident earlier on."

"Okay, I'll be there in…" Shit! Morelli had left her. "Uhm…by any chance do you have a spare body around? Preferably with a vehicle."

"Where's Morelli?"

"His shift is over." she stated simply.

"Uh huh." Tank said but he didn't press the issue. "I'll have someone there in fifteen."

"Do you know where I am?"

"According to your tracker I assume it's the TPD."

"Excuse me? What tracker?" They had been spying on her?

Marissa felt her anger spike. "Seriously Desmoreaux?"

Tank let out a loud, heavy sigh. "Curse me out when you get here okay. At least the walls here are sound-proof."

Then he hung up.

Marissa stared at the phone with her mouth opened. The bastard had hung up on her. Oh, he was so going to get a beatdown when she saw him.

Zero was her transportation, and while he wasn't as talkative as Bobby, or flirty like Lester, the ride to RangeMan wasn't awkward or uncomfortable. He seemed to be curious about her job as an agent and kept asking her questions about her work life in New York.

"Are you thinking about transferring to New York or working for the Bureau?" she had asked him to gauge his interest.

"Only if RangeMan got a branch there." he replied.

A New York RangeMan branch. Interesting, Marissa thought with a small smile.

The thought caused a tingle of hope to run through her. Then the reality of what kind of personal logistics she would have to go through dampened the hopefulness. Was she ready to have Carlos in her life full-time? A montage of her already dysfunctional life flashed through her mind.

She had no business thinking about long-term relationships. Hell, she couldn't even decide on an internet provider. Plus, she barely even spent time with Carlos since she'd arrived in Trenton. But then again, she was working, so in essence it wasn't her fault. And did they even have a relationship? Yes, they had slept together a few times. And yes, they talked to each other every few days when their schedules permitted. And yes, he meant a lot to her. But was that enough? Did he feel the same way about her? Did he want to have something long-term with her? Were they willing to make sacrifices in order to be together?

By the time they pulled into the garage at RangeMan Marissa's head began to hurt, and she rubbed her temples.

"Are you alright?" Zero asked with concern as they got into the elevator.

Marissa raised her head, and with effort, plastered a smile on her face. "I'm fine. Just a bit tired. Had no idea Trenton could be so draining."

Tank was waiting for them on the fifth floor when the doors whooshed opened, and quickly guided her down the hallway, past Ranger's office, to a small cluster of offices.

"In here." he said as he stopped and opened a door.

Marissa looked at the name plate on the door. It said "Logistics".

"Whose office is this?" she asked as she stepped into the room.

"Mine."

She glanced quickly around the mid-sized room taking in the ambiance. There was a huge mahogany desk that picked up most of the space. On it was a computer and a printer. A sturdy-looking black, leather office chair that looked like it cost more than her monthly mortgage payment, stood behind the desk. Opposite the desk was a bank of steel file cabinets. A row of four floor-to-ceiling windows made up the back wall, giving the space an airy feeling with the natural light that strewn in.

"Nice." Marissa said as she walked towards the desk. "Now tell me about this tracker."

"Mari…" Tank groaned.

"Either you start talking, or I go to the man who I know put it on me." Her voice held no room for humor or playfulness.

Tank sighed. "Fine. It's on the back of your creds."

Her mouth fell open. "My credentials!"

With controlled fury she pulled out a wallet-sized holder out of one of her cargo pants pockets, and all but threw it at Tank.

"Show. Me." she grounded out.

It was a well-known fact that agents never went anywhere without their credentials; some even took it on vacation. Marissa knew Carlos knew this and it just fueled her anger knowing that he was literally spying on her.

She watched as Tank opened the holder, took out her badge and flipped it around. Her eyes narrowed when he peeled a round, dime-sized grey film off of it. Yellow streaks criss-crossed the entire surface of the disc, and in the center was a black round dot. They were the transmitter wires and receiver compacted to fit the circumference of the tracker.

"What the fuck…" She took the tracker he held in his fingertips, walked over to the desk, grabbed the stapler and pounded on the disc. There. Let's see them track her now.

"Mari, don't turn this into something that it's not." Tank pleaded as he handed her back the credentials.

She made a disgusted sound. "Are you fucking kidding me? The man was spying on me."

"He was worried about you." Tank quickly interjected.

"Seriously?" she asked incredulously as she put her id and the now disabled tracker back in her pocket. "I sleep with a fucking gun under my pillow and can hold my own in a fight, but yet you stand here telling me he was worried about me. Bullshit!"

"Christ." Tank breathed, wishing he had kept his mouth shut about the tracker. "Look, after you got hurt the last time he wanted to make sure that in case of an emergency you could be found quickly."

"I was found quickly. Bryan was there. And I handled the situation." she argued.

"Handled the situation? The perp kicked you in the stomach and punched you in the face. If that's called handling then your reality is seriously skewed."

"Shit happens in my line of work. I wish you and Carlos would accept that."

Tank shook his head. "That's not how we operate with the people we care about. You didn't hear his voice when I called and told him you were in the hospital. You didn't see his face when he arrived at the hospital. I did. He was scared Mari."

"Well guess what? I was scared too. And I'm sure Bryan was too. But you don't see him hovering over me like a mama bear. Let it go already."

Tank opened his mouth to argue with her when his cell phone rang. He answered without taking his eyes off her.

"Yeah."

He listened as Ranger told him that he was on his way back to the office. In the meantime he needed Tank to fax a warrant down to the Miami office for a skip.

"I'm on it." Tank confirmed and hung up.

"Don't go anywhere." he said to Marissa. "We need to resolve this."

She tried not to roll her eyes. In her opinion there was nothing left to resolve. What was done was done, and now it was time for action.

And boy was there going to be action, she thought angrily.


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14**

After deciding that she was too wound up to do any research Marissa wondered back out into the hallway towards the control room. Zero was at the monitors with his head down filling out what looked like a log book.

He looked up when Marissa approached and smiled. "You done already?"

She offered him a tight smile back. "Nah. Got side-tracked. Is your shift almost done?"

He shook his head and looked at the clock on the screen. "Got four more hours left. But I'm off for two days after that so it's no hardship."

Marissa tried to think about the last time she had two days off in a row and came up blank. Good grief, her life was pathetic.

Movement on the screen broke into her mental lament. She saw two black SUVs pull into the garage. A few seconds later she saw Lester emerge from the driver side of one, followed by Hal from the passenger side.

Ranger stepped out of the other vehicle and they all began to make their way to the elevator. As Ranger was about to step into the elevator something caught his attention and he motioned Lester and Hal to go on without him.

Marissa stared at the screen with keen eyes, and bit down on her lower lip in a nervous gesture. Was it Tank that stopped him and told him about her finding the tracker? She knew he would be pissed off by this information, but she was beyond pissed that he had actually put it on her so he would just have to deal with it. Her eyes widened fractionally when Stephanie came into the frame.

From the camera angle she could see Ranger's features go soft. He held out a hand to Stephanie and she wrapped her arms around him in an emotionally charged embrace. A few seconds later she pulled back, placed a hand on his cheek and said something to him. There was no sound coming from the monitor, but Marissa didn't need sound to tell her what was going to happen next. She watched as Stephanie raised her faced to Ranger's and kissed him with all the passion of a woman in love. Marissa was unprepared for the sickening feeling that flowed through her.

"Shit!" Zero cursed and quickly turned off the monitor. But even after the screen went black Marissa could still see the couple locked in their heated embraced. She didn't move. Couldn't move. In her mind she saw herself running down the hallway and escaping through the front door. In reality, she stood rigidly with a stony look on her face. Her pallor was pale and her eyes looked vacant. Tank came up behind her.

"Mari?" He touched her shoulder and she jumped as if she had been burned. "Mari, what's wrong?"

She tried to tell him what she had seen but no sound came out her mouth.

Tank glared at Zero. "What happened?" he all but yelled.

Zero shot him a chagrined look, then said "She saw the boss and Bombshell…together."

Tank didn't need any more elaboration on that statement. "Fuck!" he swore violently. He looked at Marissa and his heart immediately felt heavy from the look of betrayal on her face.

"Mari..."

She looked around wildly; like a trapped animal. "I have to get out of here."

Tank stepped in front of her, blocking her escape. "At least let him explain."

For a woman in such a high emotional state Tank was surprised when she said in a clear, strong voice, "Either you get out of my Desmoreaux or I will go through you."

The look of determination on her face, coupled with the fact the she had used his last name, told Tank that it was better for him, and his health insurance, if he let her run rather than to try and stop her.

He let her brushed past him, and listened, with his stomach filled with knots, as her footsteps beat a hasty tattoo against the carpeted floor. He waited until he heard the stairwell door open, then slammed shut before he pulled out his cell phone and pressed Speed Dial #1.

When the line connected he didn't wait for the other person to talk.

"Get the fuck up here now." he hissed then hung up.

He had done his share of complex problem-solving for the government and for RangeMan over the years, but none of what he'd experienced had prepared him for this. Ranger looked at the man before him and rubbed his forehead in a frustrated gesture. They were in his office, and the tension in the air hung thick around them. Tank sat opposite him with his fingers steepled in front of him; his face devoid of any emotion.

They had been locked in the office for the past ten minutes as Tank recalled what had gone down in the control room with Marissa.

"Where is she now?" Ranger asked stoically. His mind was racing and he was trying to tamp down the nauseous feeling in his stomach.

"Don't know." Tank said.

"Then pull her up on the GPS." Ranger growled.

"She found the tracker and disabled it."

"How did she find it?"

"That was my fault. I let it slip that we had attached it to her creds."

Ranger leveled him with a look that usually caused lesser men to piss themselves.

"Where's the other one?"

Tank raised an eyebrow. "What other one? You only told me about this one."

"I planted two on her. One on the back of her creds, and another on the lining of her gun holster. Those were the two things I knew she never went anywhere without."

"Smart."

Ranger huffed out a sigh. "Doesn't seem so smart now."

He turned towards his computer and double clicked on an icon on the screen. He typed in a password and then a series of numbers. A few seconds later the screen came alive with a roadmap, and a blue dot flashed furiously on a location on the map.

"Got her." Ranger announced. "She's at the TPD."

Tank looked skeptical. "How did she get there so fast? I know she doesn't have a car as I had to send Zero to bring her here earlier."

"What happened to Morelli?"

"She said his shift was over."

Ranger shook his head but said nothing.

"You want me to go with you?" Tank asked as he nodded towards the screen.

"No. I'm the one that fucked up. Plus, I think it's time she and I had a serious talk."

"You made a decision?"

Ranger nodded.

"Have you told either of them?"

Ranger hesitated. "Not yet."

Tank shook his head and sighed. "I'm glad I'm not you right now man. Good luck when you find Mari though. I suggest you wear some Kevlar."

Ranger shot him a pointed look.

Tank got up and made his way to the door. "Fine. Don't say I didn't warn you."

He watched Tank's retreating back. "Hey." he said just before Tank went through the door. "If you were in my shoes which one would you pick?"

Tank opened the door before he answered. "That's easy. The one you know you couldn't live without, even after you'd both just had the worst fight in your relationship."

Ranger waited until Tank closed the door behind him before he dropped his head to his hands. He was so royally fucked.


	15. Chapter 15

**Chapter 15**

Marissa looked up at the street sign. Stark Street. Interesting name she thought. By definition stark meant barren or desolate, but from the flurry of activity on the street it was the epitome of a living oxymoron. Standing in the shadows of the store front of Stan's Appliances she watched as cars drove slowly down the street.

Some had loud rap music booming out of them, while others cruised and stopped ever so often on random street corners. Marissa watched with great interest as scantily-clad women approached the cars; ducking their heads through the passenger side windows. She had worked undercover as a prostitute a few months ago, so she knew the intricacies of the carnal deals that were being brokered.

The street was well lit, though in a few spots the street lights were either shot out or burnt out on their own. Most of the buildings were covered in graffiti, but the few that were spared looked a little worse for wear. It was more a business area than a residential one, and reminded her of Jamaica Avenue in Queens.

She huffed out a breath and surveyed her surroundings. She needed help, but there was no way she was going to ask anyone of these characters inhabiting this street for it. Their help probably came along with a knife or gun. She needed to find a phone booth. She had turned off her cell phone to keep Tank or Ranger from finding her via her phone signal. Now, she was pondering the sanity of that decision as she was now technically lost and without any way of getting back to her hotel. Could this night get any worse?

She scanned the length of the street and spotted a phone booth towards the end of the block. She walked briskly, shielding her face against the cold wind by pulling up the neck of her turtle neck as high as it would go. Her hopes were dashed however when she picked up the receiver and found no dial tone.

"Fuck!" she breathed angrily and slammed the phone back on the cradle.

"Now, now Shorty." came a voice from behind her. "That's no way to treat public property."

Marissa whirled around. Standing before her was a tall African-American male, dressed in a black parka, jeans, sneakers and a red knit cap pulled low on his head. The smirk on his face told her that she was just the kind of entertainment he was looking for. Too bad for him she wasn't feeling cooperative.

"Mind your own business." she snapped before making her way down the street.

"Awww…come on Shorty." he called out. "No need for an attitude. At least tell me your name."

Marissa rolled her eyes and kept on walking. She gave herself a mental pat down— gun on her right side, knife on her left ankle and military-grade Mace in her left cargo pocket.

Mr. Stalker kept following her, but he kept his distance. Her body and mind were on high alert, but she kept her gait steady and with an air of confidence so as to not tip him off about her great unease. She saw another phone booth a few feet in front of her and picked up her pace. Please God, let this one be working she prayed as she grabbed the receiver. She almost wept with relief when she heard the dial tone in her ear. Unfortunately, her joy was cut short when she realized she had no change to make the call. Shit!

Mr. Stalker stood off in the shadows. Marissa really didn't want to get into an altercation, but he was seriously testing her patience. Deciding that the best approach would be to get out of there as fast as she can, she dialed 911. When the dispatcher came on the line she discreetly gave her name and badge number and asked to be routed to the Trenton Police Department's switchboard operator. Once she got connected, she identified herself again and asked to be connected to Detective Morelli.

He picked up after four rings. "Morelli."

"It's me."

Joe could hear street noises in the background. When did RangeMan get so noisy? "Where are you?"

"I'm on Stark…and…seventh."

Joe felt everything inside him still.

"Hello?"

"You're on Stark Street." It was more a statement than a question. "What happened to going to RangeMan?"

"I was there." she answered.

Joe's eyes narrowed. Why was she being so evasive? "But?"

"But there were some…uhm…technical difficulties."

"Like?"

"Hold on Morelli."

He heard her cover the mouth piece and the garbled sound of conversation followed. Who was she talking to…on fucking Stark Street?

Joe began to pace. How the hell did she get there? Better yet, what was she doing there?

"Sorry about that." she said when she came back on the line.

"Who were you talking to?"

"Don't worry about it." Marissa said casually. "Just one of the locals."

Joe stopped pacing. "One of the locals? Carter the locals there are drug dealers, prostitutes and all around shady characters."

"So?"

He couldn't believe she was being so nonchalant. "So how the hell did you get there?"

"Long story. But that's not important right now. I need you to come pick me up."

Wait a minute, Joe thought. "Why are you calling me and not Manoso or Tank?"

"That's not a conversation I'd like to have on this phone. Now, are you coming or not because…what the fuck? Hey!"

The line went dead.

Ice flowed through Joe's veins. "Hello? Carter?"

He knew he was talking to dead air, but clung onto the hope that his cell phone just had a weak signal. Two seconds later, wearing only a sweater, jeans and running shoes, he grabbed his car keys, ran to his SUV, and prayed that this wasn't going to be like another Slayer incident.


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16  
**

Joe lost count on how many red lights he drove through, or the horns that blared as he drove on the wrong side of the street as he overtook other vehicles. His heart was beating so fast in his chest he felt short of breath, and his hands gripped the steering wheel with vise-like intensity. On a normal day, with sane driving, it would take ten minutes to reach Stark Street from his house, but tonight it took him only five.

When he hit Stark his eyes darted around wildly looking at every group and street corner. Where the hell was she? He replayed their brief conversation. Stark and Seventh was what she said, but when he drove up to Seventh there was no one there; just the shadows and his loudly beating heart.

His eyes caught on something a block away and he stomped on the accelerator with more force than was necessary. There! The red coat. That had to be her. His elation was short-lived when as he approached he saw the men standing around her. There were at least twelve of them, and Joe didn't need a degree in Criminology to know that they were gang-bangers. He screeched to a halt, jammed the gear into park, and moved on automatic. He stalked up to the group with his gun drawn, and demanded that no one move. Marissa's eyes grew wide with panic when the group of men around her began pulling out guns that were bigger and more powerful than his.

"Holy shit! Morelli! No!" she yelled as she jumped in front of him with her arms outstretched. What the fuck was he doing? He was going to get them killed.

Her head swiveled back to the group of men she had been talking to a few seconds ago. She knew that they had little regard for law enforcement and would take her and Joe down if the wrong move was made.

"Put your gun down Morelli." she pleaded.

"You set us up Shorty." one of the men accused bitterly.

Marissa swallowed hard. "Please put the gun down Morelli." she said again.

His cop face was in place, and his gun hand was lethally steady.

"You alright?" he asked her, his eyes never leaving the armed group.

"I'm fine. But if you don't put that gun down I can't vouch for my safety in the next five minutes. Put. The. Gun. Down."

Something in her voice broke through his determination. His eyes flicked to her then back to the gang. Finally, very slowly, he lowered his gun. He didn't put the safety on or holster it though, but kept it in his hand with his finger just to the side of the trigger. He wasn't taking any chances, and quite frankly it was just plain stupid to not be prepared to defend yourself with twelve guys pointing AK's and shotguns at you. His eyes and body were on high alert. If one of those assholes even blinked the wrong way...

"Diddle tell them to put their guns away." Marissa said over her shoulder.

There was a brief silence, then a voice instructed, "Stand down."

Relief flooded through her when she heard the weapons being lowered and the safety clips being snapped into place. That had been close. Too damn close.

When she had seen the bright lights and make of vehicle as it sped towards her, she had been sure Carlos or Tank had found her. It was only when the driver alighted from the vehicle, and she made out the silhouette of Joe, did she feel some relief. Her peace of mind however was cut short when she saw the gun in his hand. Her stomach did a free fall as she knew the consequences that his action would bring.

Now it was time for some damage control. The tension hung thick around them, but Marissa knew that if she and Joe were to get out the situation gunshot-hole-free, she was going to have to use some humility and soothe some egos.

"I must apologize for my partner's...enthusiasm Diddle." she said to the tallest man in the group. It was obvious to Joe that this was the leader of the Stark Street Bloods. He'd seen his mug shot at the Precinct enough times and had it stored in his memory.

"Don't apologize to this scumbag Carter..."Joe started hotly before Marissa cut a look of fury at him.

Diddle let out a wry laugh. "No worries Shorty. I can see how the man would want to protect his woman."

Marissa narrowed her eyes at him. "I'm not his woman. We work together."

Diddle cut his eyes to her. "Maybe so, but if I were him I'd be making tracks to get you to be doing some other type of work with that gun of his, if you know what I mean." He waggled his eyebrows at her while the rest of his gang chuckled at the loaded statement.

Marissa glared at them, and with great effort bit back a retort. Joe on the other hand was not so subtle.

"Maybe I should show you just how well I can work a gun." he sneered as he raised his gun hand in a smooth quick motion and pointed it at Diddle.

Crap! Marissa thought. Here we go again.

She placed her hand on Joe's arm and squeezed lightly. She could feel his muscles bunching under her finger tips. "Don't kill him yet Morelli. I was actually getting some intel from them."

"What intel?" he asked as his arm lowered.

"Seems he knows where I can find the Zamochit gang."

"Seems a little too cooperative and eager with the information if you ask me." Joe said, his voice dripping with skepticism.

Diddle shrugged. "What can I say? I have a weakness for helpless pretty ladies who get lost on my turf."

"I bet." Joe said wryly. He'd seen quite a few of those lost ladies at St. Francis, and needless to say their prettiness were often marred by the bruises and broken jaws they had received from the ever so helpful Bloods gang.

"You calling me a liar?" Diddle said with a sneer.

Marissa watched with keen eyes as the rest of the gang shifted nervously behind him. If she was in New York this scenario would have gone down a whole lot differently. She knew the members of that faction and they knew her. She knew their mannerisms, names, their mothers, where they lived, their baby mamas and even some of their siblings.

All this information had been gleaned from arrests, search warrant executions and from just being a nosy agent and poking her nose in all the holes she could find. But out here in Trenton she was starting from scratch. She didn't know Diddle's real name, where he lived, his rap sheet, the members of his gang, their hideout or if there were any outstanding warrants for any of them. She hated not knowing, and not just about this, about anything.

"I'd stick with liar if I were you." Joe said in a low menacing tone. "Sounds much better than asshole."

Diddle leveled a menacing glare at him, while Marissa pressed her lips together and tried not to smile. She was glad Joe was with her. What seemed to be turning out as the most annoying night of her life was now morphing into the kind of action that propelled the love for her job. Better to get out while the situation wasn't at a critical level. Bullets and blood had a way of dampening good fun.

"We're leaving." she said to the group. "You gentlemen have a goodnight."

Diddle nodded at her with a surly look on his face but said nothing.

Marissa and Joe walked backwards to the SUV. There was no way they were turning their backs on these characters. Joe handed Marissa his gun when they got in the vehicle. "It any one of those fuckers so much as sneeze, shoot them."

Marissa raised an eyebrow at him, but nodded in understanding of his rationale.

She kept the gun low and watched the gang with alert eyes until they had reversed a half block away.

It was only when they drove away from Stark did she release the breath she had been holding, and slumped back against the seat. She took a few calming breaths as she tried to get her emotions under control. What a night.

Joe sat stonily beside her, his eyes focused on the road. She could feel the tension radiating off of him though. She clicked the safety on the gun and placed it in the glove compartment.

"Thank you." she said softly.

"Don't thank me yet." he said still staring straight ahead. "Care to tell me what the fuck you were doing on Stark Street of all places."

She glared at him. "No."

A muscle in his jaw flexed violently and he pursed his lips. "Now is not the time to be trying my patience Carter. I thought I was going to find your body when I pulled up there. How the hell would I have had explained that to Targa...not to mention the Bureau?"

Marissa made a disgusted sound. "Nothing to explain Morelli. Because contrary to what you and everyone else thinks, I can take care of myself just fine. I've been through the same tactical and defense training you've been through, maybe even more. So take the chauvinistic stick out your ass and stop treating me like some helpless female instead of a fellow officer of the law."

"I do treat you like an office of the law." Joe argued. "But when you go off and do something like this I begin to worry about your sanity. How did you end up on Stark anyway? You were supposed to be at RangeMan?"

"I ended up on Stark by accident. I was just walking." _More like running_ "How was I supposed to know it was the crime capital of Trenton?"

"Why did you leave RangeMan? I refuse to believe that your boy Manoso would just put you out on the street like that. That's not how he operates."

Marissa stayed quiet and stared sullenly out the window.

Joe chanced a quick glance at her. He couldn't see her face, but her body language spoke volumes. Then it dawned on him. "Well I'll be damned." he breathed. "He doesn't know where you are does he?"

Marissa shifted uncomfortably but stayed silent. She was cold, irritable and hungry and in no mood for an inquisition. "Can we talk about this later? Right now I just want food and a shower, and maybe a nap. After that you can ask anything you want."

It was then she realized that he was going in the opposite direction of where her hotel was. "Uhh...the hotel is the other way Morelli."

"I know." he answered simply. "But I'm not about to let you out of my sight just yet. It seems like every time I do you get into trouble."

She opened her mouth to argue but he cut her off. "We're going to my house. I was in the middle of making dinner when you called. I'll drop you back to the hotel later."

"But..."

"It's just dinner. Plus, I can use the company."

"And after everything I've put you through tonight you want me as your company?"

He gave her an assessing look. "Well, you're no Bob, but you'll do."

Marissa watched Joe as he moved around the kitchen. The fluidity of his movements told her that he was comfortable and capable when it came to whipping up a meal. To her there was nothing sexier than a man who had some domestic skills. Seated at the kitchen table, with Bob lying at her feet, she found herself wondering what else he was good at.

"What are you making?' she asked as she watched him turn on the oven.

"So far a roast chicken." he said as he went to the refrigerator. "I haven't really planned out the accompanying side dishes yet."

"Can I help?" Marissa asked as she got up and crossed over Bob's sleeping body.

"You can cook?"

She made a face at him. "Of course I can cook. I've been cooking since I was fourteen. My mother wanted to ensure that I snagged a good husband, and be able to feed him and the two kids I was destined to have."

"And how's that working out for you?" Joe asked with a teasing smile as he reached into the fridge and pulled out a bag of shredded carrots, green beans and a red onion.

"Well, the men I have cooked for are still alive, and I've gotten one marriage proposal."

"And the kids?"

"That a whole other story." she said as she took the ingredients from him and placed them by the sink.

"Why? You don't like kids?" Joe asked as he looked in a drawer for the cutting board.

Marissa shrugged nonchalantly. "I like them just fine. Just in small doses. I don't think I'm cut out for motherhood."

"Why do you say that? You probably just need the right man to support you."

"Maybe I do, but for now I'm in no rush to go find him. I can barely find time to do laundry, much less have relationship."

Joe brought the cutting board over to the sink and shook his head dramatically. "That's just tragic."

"You're one to talk. I don't see you running out having hot dates."

"Oh I have them." he said, his voice filled with male pride. "It's just that they usually happen on a Friday or Saturday night."

"Of which year?" Marissa teased.

Joe grabbed a knife out of the knife block and held it out to her, handle first. "Here, while you're at it just run this through my heart so it can match my already sliced up ego."

"Sorry. I didn't mean..."

"Don't apologize." he admonished softly with a smile. "I appreciate your candidness."

She glanced up at him and their gazes held. She searched his face looking for any signs of feigned empathy but found none.

"Thanks again for coming to get me." she said coyly as she dropped her gaze from his and focused on the tiled floor. "I wasn't expecting to..."

"Don't worry about it." he interjected.

Whatever had happened earlier on that had sent her to Stark Street was still having a deep effect on her. Her eyes were beginning to take on a bloodshot hue and dark circles were beginning to take up residence underneath them. Her mouth drooped down slightly, and her nose was still slightly red from being out in the cold for so long. But even in her aura of mental anguish she was still a beautiful woman.

He didn't miss the way her eyes dropped down to his mouth before snapping back up to meet his gaze, and he realized how little effort it would right then to initiate some kind of intimate contact between them. But then again, he wasn't ready for that. Not even with her.

He was wary to get into another relationship after Stephanie. And just like Stephanie, Marissa too was somehow tangled up emotionally with Ranger. He wasn't going to go down that road again.

He took a step back, and she watched him for a moment, her eyes unreadable.

"I…I think we should start dinner before we end up eating at midnight." he said giving her his best lopsided smile.

She looked at him for a moment before turning her face away and looking at the vegetables in the sink. "What do you want me to do with these?"

"Whatever you want. I'm anxious to see just how a good a cook you really are."

"Is that a challenge?" she asked with a smile growing on her face.

"Not in the least." Something told him that most people who challenged her to anything wound up on the losing end.

She turned towards the sink and started to prep the vegetables. "Can I get a bowl to put these in?"

He stepped beside her and reached into one of the cupboards above her head. The action caused his shoulders to brush against hers and he tried to ignore the way his cock twitched from the contact. Glancing down at her he was relieved to see she seemed preoccupied with the task at hand, and oblivious to his growing erection. Talk about an uncomfortable situation.

Setting the bowl down next to her he moved to the other side of the kitchen to check the temperature in the oven. As he was about to put the chicken back into the oven to finish cooking the door bell rang.

Marissa whirled around with wide eyes, while Bob got up and began to bark. Moving stealthily to his kitchen window Joe peered out towards the front of the house. "Looks like a RangeMan vehicle." he said in a low voice.

Marissa made a sound like a groan. "Please don't tell them I'm here."

Joe was confused by her distress. He crossed the room and grabbed her by the shoulders. "What happened at RangeMan?" he asked for what seemed like the hundredth time that night.

She seemed caught off guard for a moment, then a shadow crossed her face and Joe could tell that she was holding back her emotions.

"Carter, tell me what happened before I go to that door. What did he do?"

She swallowed hard and her eyes took on a glassy quality. The doorbell rang again.

"I need to know how to play this." he explained giving her a slight shake.

She let out a sigh. "I saw him…with her. Kissing her."

Joe stilled. He didn't need an explanation as to who the _him _or _her_ was. He'd happened across that scene a few months ago when he and Stephanie were still together. It had been one of the factors that contributed to their break-up. He had come to pick her up at the bonds office for a surprise lunch date. There had been no parking in front of the office so he had to park further up the street.

As he was passing the alley next to the office he saw movement, then a mass of brown curls, then a figure dressed all in black. As the shock of what had walked up on wore off, he watched with a mixture of gut-wrenching agony and morbid curiosity as the kiss the couple was engaged in went from exploratory to an all out inferno of passion. Dazed, he walked back up the street, got in his car and headed to the nearest bar.

Now, as he looked down at Marissa's tormented face he could see she was in that same moment he had been in.

"Go upstairs and don't turn on any lights." he instructed.

She did as she was told with Bob following close behind like a bodyguard. And as Joe watched her retreating back he prayed for patience and understanding before stalking towards the front door.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17**

Ranger stood in the TPD's parking lot trying to decide if his ego could suffer anymore blows than it already had that night. He wanted to kick something, or punch a wall...or jump off a bridge. He had found Marissa's tracker with the help of Carl Costanza. But for reasons beyond him, he had no clue as to why she had left her holster in Joe's desk drawer.

Feeling slightly helpless and a little clueless he called Tank. He didn't wait for a greeting.

"Did you find her?"

"Not yet. We just pulled up in front of Morelli's."

Ranger felt a wave of dissatisfaction descend upon him. Where the hell was she? It wasn't like she knew anything about Trenton. Her playground was the streets of New York City.

Staring down at his boots he reeled his emotions in and concentrated at the task at hand.

"Do you think she's there?" he asked.

"Maybe. I'll know more when I talk to Morelli. Body language is always a dead giveaway."

Ranger was glad Tank couldn't see his. "Keep me informed." he said before he hung up.

Joe opened the door slowly and cocked an eyebrow. "Yeah?"

Tank stepped in from the shadows. "I'm trying to locate Agent Carter. Is she here?"

There was no need for pleasantries as theirs was not that type of association.

"Why would she be here?" Joe asked with a mixture of feigned confusion and surprise. "The last time I spoke with her she said she was going over to RangeMan."

Tank shifted. "She did."

"And?"

"She left."

"And you're knocking on my door and being vague because...?"

"That doesn't concern you. I just wanted to see if she was here."

"She's not."

"Can I come in?" Tank asked coolly.

Joe eyed him wearily. "No." He gestured behind him. "Look, I was in the middle of making dinner, so if there isn't anything else you want..."

"I have only good intentions towards her Morelli." Tank said cutting him off.

"Well then, when you find her be sure to tell her that." Joe tried to close the door, before realizing that one of Tank's boots was acting like a doorstop.

"I would hate to ruin such nice boots with a bullet hole." Joe said as he glared at Tank.

Tank didn't miss a beat. "And I would hate for you to have to replace your front door during such a harsh winter."

Joe gave him a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "It seems we have an understanding then."

The stairs in the house creaked, and Tank looked behind Joe's back suspiciously only to see Bob bounding down the stairs with his tail wagging furiously. Bob made his way over to where the two men were standing and pushed his nose against Joe's hand. He was rewarded with an affectionate head rub.

"Look Morelli, like I said before, I'm on her side. I just want to make sure she's alright."

Joe heard the genuine concern in Tank's voice, and sensed that he truly cared about Marissa. However, he also knew that from the look of panic that had been on her face a short while ago, she would not be up to the verbal and emotional banter that would certainly come from him selling her out. Because good intentions or not, the fact still remained that Ranger would find out.

But then again, maybe they should resolve whatever issue they had between them and get it out of the way. Delaying the inevitable only had a way of creating more problems. But on the other hand they weren't his problems. So why the hell did he care so much?

Joe looked at Tank. "I'm sorry I can't help you. But I do hope you find her soon. Besides she's a trained officer of the law, I'm sure she's safe. She might have even gone back to the hotel."

Tank eyed him suspiciously. "Your lack of concern of her whereabouts makes me wonder just how much of the truth you're really revealing here."

Joe gave him a tight smile and shrugged. "I've learned to not care so much anymore Desmoreaux, especially when Manoso's closely involved. It seems the ladies would rather be saved by the mysterious bad boy rather than the hardworking public servant."

"Mari is not Steph." Tank cautioned.

Joe let out a bitter chuckle. "And this is where we end this conversation."

He didn't wait for a response from the other man; and felt no guilt or unease when he closed the door and locked it.

Bob looked at him with concerned eyes.

"Yeah boy, it seems this night just keeps getting better and better." he said as he made his way up the stairs.

Marissa sat crossed-legged on Joe's bed trying to spell the word _ambidexterity_ backwards. It was her way of distracting herself from thinking about what was going on downstairs. She usually did this exercise when she and Bryan were working late on a case and going on only two hours of sleep. She found it kept her mind alert, and most times was able to come up with a different way to look at the case or gain new leads.

Tonight however she was trying to figure out how the hell she was going to finish the job she was sent to do and still be able to steer clear of Carlos and the other Rangemen for the next two days. Somewhere underneath the layers of embarrassment and hurt she knew it was useless to even try to accomplish that feat, but a girl could still have hope, couldn't she?

She had just gotten to "_x"_ when Joe walked into the darkened room. Bob was at his side wagging his tail slowly, and Marissa vaguely remembered a joke about a man and his dog walking into a bar.

"Are you happy Morelli?" she asked when he sat down next to her on the bed, while Bob made himself comfortable on the floor.

He shrugged. "I won't go so far as happy. But on most days I'm contented I guess. Hard to be happy when your job consists of spending large amounts of time with death and despair."

Marissa nodded her head indicating she understood his logic.

"Are you happy?" he countered.

She tilted her head and looked at him. "Right now? No. But then I couldn't really tell you when I even got a chance to analyze that question. For the past few months my life has been a big blur. But that's been entirely my fault. I was trying to delay having to face some realities."

"Like what?"

She took her time answering. "Like knowing in the back of my mind that someone I cared about was in love with someone else."

Joe made a sound at the back of his throat. "Yeah, I've been there."

"How do you do it Morelli?" Her voice faltered, but her face, which was illuminated by the moonbeams in the room, showed no emotion.

"Do what?"

She took a deep breath. "How do you find the strength to get up every day knowing what you know about what happened between the two of them and still be able to function sanely?

His lips twitched. "You think I'm sane?"

"Saner than me." she said with a small, sad smile.

"Maybe it's because I've had to live with their closeness longer than you have. We're talking a couple of years here. At first it hurt like hell, then when I realized all my anger and frustration weren't going to stop their interaction I decided it was best to pull myself out of the picture."

"Any regrets?"

He looked thoughtful. "You know if you had asked me that a couple of months ago I would've given you a laundry list of regrets. But now that the dust has settled I can honestly say no. Do you have any regrets?"

She looked thoughtful. "Yes and no. Professionally I have none. You would think that having to deal with the day to day bureaucratic bullshit my job entails would steer me in a different career direction, but funny enough it just propels me onward. Personally, I have a few regrets. They tend to run more towards my lifestyle more than my social life though."

"What's wrong with your lifestyle?"

"According to Bryan it's being mangled by my job. He says the lines are so blurred that I probably recite the Federal Code in my sleep, and that I make up for all the fun I've been missing by taking unnecessary risks when I'm on an operation."

"Like the Thermite incident?" Joe asked.

"That was one of them. But mild compared to what happened a few weeks ago." She seemed reluctant to talk about it. But Joe sensed that she needed to get it off her chest.

"What happened?"

She bit down on her lower lip before answering. "I got attacked by a perp during a takedown. I was covering the back door of this house and saw him scale through a window and went after him."

"Where was your backup? And going after a suspect by yourself is just plain stupid. Correct me if I'm wrong, but that's why most takedowns are done in teams."

"I know that." she replied stonily. "Trust me I don't need to hear the lecture again. It's been branded in my head by the Special Agent in Charge and by Bryan. And when Tank and Ranger showed up at the hospital I got read the riot act there too."

His eyes narrowed. "Okay, back up. Hospital? They had to take you to the hospital? And why were Tank and Ranger there?"

She let out a heavy sigh. "Sometimes the Bureau gets teamed up with... outside contractors depending on the situation and the location of an operation. RangeMan is one of those contractors."

She didn't have to say anymore. Joe was well aware of the government contracts Ranger and his men were sometimes involved in.

"You didn't answer my question. Why did they take you to the hospital?" His voice was calm but there was an underlying edge to it.

"I just had some superficial cuts and bruises." she said nonchalantly.

"Was anyone else taken to the hospital?"

"The perp. Seems he accidentally slipped on the pavement, and his head hit a wall or something." she replied innocently.

Joe smiled. "Don't you hate clumsy criminals? I take it Manoso wasn't pleased with your behavior."

She grimaced. "Let's just say by the time he got to New York he had run out of adjectives to be."

"Wait, he wasn't there? I thought you said..."

Marissa held up a hand. "Okay let me explain. Tank was there on the takedown. Ranger couldn't come because he was helping Stephanie on a stakeout. He only found out what happened when Tank called him."

"So he drove all the way to New York just to make sure you were alright? Sounds like a man in love."

Marissa looked torn. "No, I think that was just his guilt. What I saw today was evidence of that I'm not the one he loves. So I've finally accepted that fact along with a few others I've known for a while."

"Such as?' Joe pressed.

She shook her head sadly as a somber look masked her face. "Doesn't matter."

With a loud sigh she uncrossed her legs, got off the bed and walked to the door. "I can't deal with this now. I have more important things to deal with. I have less than two days to come up with a viable lead or two on this case to take back with me, and so far all I've done is break into a morgue. That's not going to get me the Agent of the Year award. So promise me if I get into this funky, self-pitying mood again you'll punch me in the face."

Joe looked at her silhouette in the doorway stunned by the depth of her abnegation, and saddened by the fact that she thought it was normal. "That's kinda excessive isn't it?"

She shrugged. "I'm an extreme kinda gal."

"Is that doublespeak for crazy?" Joe asked as he got up.

"If I say yes will it hinder our partnership?"

He didn't need to think about that question. "No."

She smiled and held out her hand. "Well then, enough of the small talk. How about we go finish that dinner and I'll entertain you with the intel I got from Diddle."

Joe took her hand and they headed to the stairs. Her hand felt small, warm and soft in his, and he briefly wondered if she felt this way all over. The stirring in his groin told him to change that train of thought…fast. "By chance Diddle didn't tell you about some recent shootings on Stark, did he? I'm trying to finish up a report on a double homicide and the witness accounts are kinda lacking."

"No. But he did say I had a nice ass."

"Yeah, I'll be sure to put that in my report to Targa. It'll be a relief to know somebody's ass is getting appreciation while mine is being kicked."

"You're such the drama queen Morelli." Marissa said as she rolled her eyes. "If it'll make you feel any better I can always go back to Stark and ask Diddle about the incident. It's the least I can do after what you did for me tonight."

"Ha! No thanks. But if you really want to repay me I can think of something that would make me happy."

"Oh really? What?"

Joe graced her with a smirk. "Two words. Chopped onions."


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18**

Stephanie sat on her couch absently chewing on a peanut butter and olive sandwich, as she tried to make sense of the events that had happened earlier on that day. She had been making her way to grab a bottle of water in the kitchen, when word had gotten back to RangeMan that somehow Ranger and his team had managed to get caught up in a small riot while trying to apprehend a skip. She had thought nothing much of it because after all this was Ranger they were talking about, and being in the middle of a small local melee was probably like swatting flies compared to the missions he had done while in the army.

Her panic level rose however when she saw Tank, Cal, Ram, Bobby, Woody and Zero speed-walked past her, dressed in what looked like riot gear. She watched with wide eyes as they got into the elevator; their faces blank and their eyes avoiding hers. When the doors closed she was galvanized into action and ran down the stairwell as fast as she could. She'd been working out with Lester and Zero three times a week, and as she ran down the stairs she was really glad they had insisted that she do some endurance training also. She pushed through the exit door and ran towards Tank just as he was about to get into one of the SUVs.

"What's going on? Is it Ranger? Is he alright? He's not dead isn't he? Oh God! Please don't let him be dead." she gushed out breathlessly.

"Bombshell..."

"I mean he can't be dead, right? Because he was just going to pick up a skip. And...and he's always so aware of his surroundings."

"Bombshell..."

"You would tell me if he was hurt or something, right? Because even though I may be a little pissed off at him about the whole emotional detachment thing I still care about him and..."

"STEPHANIE!"

She jumped and stared at Tank with wide eyes. "Yes?" she squeaked.

"He's fine." Tank explained. "We're just going as back up. He's fine. I promise."

Feeling foolish by her overreaction, she nodded jerkily and crossed her arms over her chest in a protective gesture. Tank stared at her for a few seconds assessing her mood. He knew his next words had to calm and reassure, because standing before him, looking like her puppy had died, was the woman who was in love with his best friend.

"I promise he'll be back in one piece." he said in a low voice.

She took a deep breath and nodded stiffly.

Tank turned to slide in to vehicle and stopped. "Anything you want me to tell him for you?"

She seemed a little stunned at the question, but quickly recovered and gave him a small smile. "Tell him I'm waiting."

Two hours later Tank and the guys returned, but not with Ranger. Stephanie was at her cubicle trying to pretend like she was working and not freaking out when the elevator doors opened. Her heart leapt in her throat as she watched them exit. When she realized Ranger was not with them she cornered Tank.

"What happened? Where is he?"

"At the station." Tank answered as he took off his Kevlar.

"Is he alright?"

"He's fine."

His cell phone rang.

"Yeah." he answered. Then, "Mari, what can I do for you?"

Deciding that she didn't want to intrude on the conversation, Stephanie went back to her cubicle. She was relieved to hear that Ranger was fine. Not like she ever doubted that. Okay, well maybe she had been a little apprehensive at first, but Batman knew how to get out a sticky situation most of the times, right?

An hour later, after trying unsuccessfully to focus on her searches, she decided it was time to go home. Ranger still hadn't shown up and the waiting was giving her a headache, not to mention mini panic attacks. All she wanted was a hot shower and some high calorie foods.

She shut off her computer and made her way down to the garage. As she was about to start her car, two black RangeMan SUVs pulled in. Relief flooded through her as a familiar figure stepped out of one of them. She watched him walk to the elevators with Hal and Lester before realizing she was about to miss her opportunity to let him know how worried she had been about him.

She scrambled out her car and called his name. He had been about to step on the elevator but turned at the noise. His eyes met hers and he motioned for Lester and Hal to go up without him. Stephanie's eyes did a quick full body of him and her knees almost buckled with relief when she didn't see any blood or bandages. Silently she approached him, too emotional to speak. He watched her. His eyes taking in every emotion that was etched on her face. When she was a few feet in front of him he held out his hand to her and she lunged at him and held on for dear life. He felt so good. She pulled back a few seconds later and looked at him, trying to convey with her eyes what she was having difficulty saying out loud. Finally getting her emotions under control she placed a hand on his cheek. "Glad you're back soldier."

She watched as his eyes darkened. And right before her lips touched his in a searing kiss she said a quick prayer of thanks to whatever godly force had brought him back safe and unhurt. The kiss went from slow and reassuring to hungry and passionate after a few seconds, and just as she was about to suggest to him that they finish it upstairs in his apartment his cell phone buzzed.

He groaned with annoyance as he pulled away from her and answered it. But whoever was on the other side of the phone didn't wait for him to answer, and whatever they said to him made all traces of the desire he had felt for her a few seconds ago completely vanish right before her eyes. The next thing she knew he was pulling her into the elevator and they were back on the fifth floor. Tank was waiting for them looking ready to kill when they exited, and with an _"I'll be right back Babe"_ he and Tank disappeared into his office. Ten minutes later Tank came out looking more pissed off than when he went in.

Yikes, I wonder what happened in there, she thought as she made her way to Ranger's office.

She found him with his head in his hands looking like the end of the world was near.

"Are you alright?" she asked softly as she stepped into the room.

His head jerked up sharply and he looked a little surprised to see her there.

Huh? Ranger not aware of his surroundings? This must have been serious.

"What can I do to help?" she asked as she walked over to him, stopping a few inches away when she got near.

He blinked at her. "Nothing. This doesn't concern you babe."

She swallowed down the ball of hurt that rose up sharply in her throat. "I see."

He let out a weary sigh and stood up. The action brought them almost touching chest to chest.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest? I have to go handle a situation. It could take a while." he said as he reached for a stray curl and tucked it behind her ear.

"Is it a client?" she asked.

"No."

"Is anyone hurt?"

He took his time answering. "I don't know."

"Will you be long?"

"I don't know."

She didn't like his uncertainty. "Then what do you know?"

"I know that I want you to go home. You look dead on your feet. I'll call you later."

"Or you could just come over afterwards." she suggested hopefully.

He stared at her with soft brown eyes. "I can do that."

He then brushed a light kiss on her lips and ushered her out the door.

Now, here she was two hours later dissecting his actions, and analyzing everything he said over peanut butter and olives. Something was off about his whole demeanor. She looked at the clock on the wall. _9:13pm._ It wasn't too late to call.

Lula picked up after three rings.

"What?"

The sounds of Earth, Wind and Fire blared through the phone, and Stephanie had to hold the phone away from her ear in order to not lose her hearing.

"It's me!" she yelled over the din.

"Steph is that you?" Lula shouted.

"Yeah! It's me! Can you turn that down?"

"Hold on!"

A few seconds later blissful silence replaced the noise.

"What's going on?" Lula asked when she came back on the line?

"I need an objective opinion." Stephanie said.

"Okay. You know how objective I can be."

Yeah, she knew alright.

Stephanie then went on to explain what had happened earlier on.

"Do you think I should've been more...what's the word...aggressive about it?"

"Huhn, this is Batman we're talking about here, right?"

"Yeah."

"Well then aggressive would've only pushed him away. You know how private he is."

She knew. But that didn't mean that she liked it.

"At least you have a booty call later. Lawd knows I need me one of those." Lula rationalized. "But if you really want to get him to talk I say use your handcuffs on him and that cherry flavored massage oil you bought the other day. Nothing makes a man talk faster than when you have his..."

"LULA!"

"Alright, alright. Look, the way I see it that man has been into you for years now. There is no way he's not interested in you. But you have to remember he's a lot of things to a lot of people, and sometimes that can wear a man down. I say you just be patient about it. In fact you should try to be like me. Right now I'm waiting on Tank to come home. You don't see me blowing up his cell phone do you?"

Something clicked in Stephanie's head. "Wait a minute, Tank's not home yet? And Ranger is out too. From what Ranger said it sounded like a friend was in trouble."

"So?"

"So who's the common friend they have that's in Trenton right now?"

"The FBI agent?"

"Correct. And what other person we know is linked to Agent Carter?"

There was silence then, "Officer Hottie?"

"Right again my friend." Stephanie's voice rose up a notch with excitement.

"What are you getting at white girl?" Lula asked suspiciously.

"Don't you see Lula? Agent Carter is in trouble, and quite possibly so is Morelli. Ranger and Tank are probably out there trying to help them out."

"That's a big probably. I've never heard of Officer Hottie getting into trouble before." Lula said.

"Exactly! History in the making." Stephanie exclaimed as she got up and headed to her bedroom. "Get dressed Lula. I'll be over to pick you up in ten minutes."

"For what?" Lula demanded.

"We're about to join the rescue team."

"Nuh uh."

"Uh huh."

"We don't even know where they are Steph. We'll just be wasting gas and time."

"That's where you're wrong my friend. I know just how to find them."

"How?"

"First we find Morelli, and then we find everyone else."

"How you so sure about that?"

"Because Morelli was partnered up with Agent Carter as part of some inter-departmental good faith thing. She doesn't know Trenton. So where ever she has to go, Morelli has to be her shadow."

"And just how are we going to find Morelli?"

Stephanie smiled. "This is the Burg my friend. There are eyes and ears all over the place. Let me make a few calls and I'll call you back."


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19**

Marissa watched Joe as he ate. His head was bent towards his plate, and she watched the movement of his jaw and lips as he forked a small heap of fried rice into his mouth. He was such a complex man. Honorable, strong, compassionate, trustworthy but yet slightly cunning. She couldn't figure him out, and she wasn't sure she wanted too. Not because of his multi-layered personality, but because she knew she could easily get caught up in him; and right now she wasn't sure she was emotionally ready to handle that. She was already frying her brain cells trying to figure out what her next step was going to be with Carlos. A step which looked more and more like the Road to Nowhere. A flash of his face just before he kissed Stephanie zinged through her mind, and she felt as if someone had punched her in the stomach.

"Are you alright?" Joe asked from across the table.

"Yeah. Why?" she asked as she shoved a piece of chicken into her mouth and distracted herself with the process of chewing.

"You made a noise."

She did?

"What noise?"

"Like you were choking."

Oh.

"No, I'm fine. Great chicken by the way."

"Was that the cause of you looking at me like that?"

She was caught off guard by his question. He saw her? Damn. "Like what?"

"Like you wanted to tell me something."

"No, no. I didn't want to tell you anything." she focused her attention on her plate and pushed the rice around.

'Then why were you staring at me?" Joe pressed. "And don't give me some bullshit story about there being food on my face."

Well actually...

"Okay fine. But if you want to walk around with a chunk of carrot stuck to the side of your mouth be my guest." Marissa said with feigned disinterest.

Joe swiped his mouth with his napkin. "You're not off the hook that easy."

Oh boy.

She had to think of something fast. "Well...since you brought it up...I was going to tell you something Diddle had mentioned."

"More stuff? I thought you told me everything when we were making the rice?" Joe said.

"It slipped my mind." she said nonchalantly waving her fork at him.

"Why don't I believe you?"

"Because you're a pessimist."

He made a face at her.

"Anyway, like I was saying, Diddle said that some of the Zamochit gang like hang out at this private strip club in Newark called The Rhino Cave."

"I know that club."

"You do?"

"Yeah, my cousin Mike owns it."

Marissa's eyes got wide. "Are you shitting me?"

Joe shook his head as he forked the last morsel of his meal into his mouth. "I kid you not. Mike's my second cousin. Kinda rough around the edges, but a sorta good guy."

"Can you call him and arrange for us to be at the cub tonight?"

"No."

WHAT!

"What?" Marissa balked. "This might just be the break we've been looking for Morelli. I need to get in that club."

He stared at her. "Then by all means don't let me stop you. Feel free to go over there whenever you want, but I'm not going?"

"Why not?" Marissa couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"I have my reasons."

"Which are?"

"None of your business." He got up from the table taking his plate with him, and walked to the sink.

"Are these macho reasons or family related reasons?" she asked as she followed him.

"Good Lord woman, you are persistent." he said with a laughed as he turned on the water and began washing his plate. "Can you just let this go for now?"

If there was one thing Marissa had a hard time doing, regardless of the situation or person, it was backing down when things were finally looking up. She needed to find out the reason Joe was so resistant. Her reasoning was that the more she knew the better it was going to be to handle the situation. Knowledge was power.

"No I can't. Not when it can help the case. Okay, answer me this. What would you do if you saw Mike?"

"What does that have to do with anything?" he asked as he dried his hands on a nearby dishtowel.

"Just answer the question."

"Okay, fine. I'd ask him for the money he borrowed from me three years ago and then I'd punch him in the face."

Marissa looked thoughtful for few seconds. "Okay, how about this? If you go over there with me I'll persuade him to give you your money back."

Joe threw his head back and let out a loud, long laugh. "You?"

"What's wrong with me?" she asked trying to seem offended.

He gave her an appraising look. "Nothing, nothing. It's just that if my Grandma Bella couldn't get him to give me back the money, even with the threat of The Eye being put on him, what makes you think he'll do it for you?"

She shot him a peeved look. "Okay, you lost me with the eye thing, but I'm not saying that he will, but I'm ninety-nine percent sure that he might."

Joe laughed again. "Your odds are good, but I'm only going with a promise of one hundred percent deliverability."

She made a disgusted sound. "No one can promise one hundred percent. It's just not realistic."

He shrugged as if to say _"too bad"._

She glared at him. "Fine. One hundred percent. But I get to use any means necessary to carry out this feat."

Joe frowned. "I don't like the sound of that."

"Well tough. You're not the one doing all the work here, now are you?"

They stared at each other; each refusing to back down. But Marissa was confident that she was going to win the battle. After all she had made an offer Joe would be crazy to refuse…or so she hoped.  
She watched with mild satisfaction as he unclipped his cell phone from his belt and flipped it opened; his eyes never left hers. He punched in a few numbers then held the phone to his ear.

A few seconds later, "Yeah, is Mike there?"

Was it just her, or was there a serious lack of phone etiquette in Trenton?

"Hey Mike, its Joe. Look, I'm coming over with a friend. Let the guys at the door know."

His Jersey accent was in full effect- a fact that made Marissa smile. The man had a tone for every situation. She wondered what he sounded like when….

"Let's put the food away then we'll leave." Joe announced as he put the phone back on his belt.

Feeling embarrassed about what she had been thinking, she ducked her head and busied herself with the task of retrieving her plate from the table and scraping the leftovers into the garbage can. Five minutes later they were ready and putting their coats on.

"Wait." Marissa said as Joe was about to open the front door.

"What?"

"Let's check for...uhm...vehicles? How do you know they're not still out there?"

Joe knew the "_they"_ she was referring to were Ranger's men. "I don't. But I'll be damned if I let Manoso control my movements, and you should too."

She knew he was right. "It's just that…I really don't…"

Joe grabbed her by the shoulders and tilted her face up to his. "Look, the most they can do is follow us, but you don't have to worry about that because you're lucky to be driving with Trenton's best evasive driver."

She rolled her eyes at his lack of modesty. "Lucky you say? That wouldn't be the adjective I would use."

Joe let go of her and opened the door. "Oh, you've got jokes now?"

"I'm just saying Morelli, I've heard you talking about your superior qualities, but I'm a kind of show and tell kinda gal."

"So now my word isn't good enough?" he asked as they stepped out into the frigid night and walked to the SUV. "Because if I recall correctly, everything I've stated so far I've been able to back up."

"Yes you have." Marissa agreed as she discreetly did a perimeter sweep of the block looking for out of place vehicles or people. She found none much to her relief, but from experience she knew that what wasn't visible didn't mean that it wasn't there. And right now her gut was telling her that they were being watched.

"And yet still I can hear the skepticism in your voice." Joe said as they climbed into vehicle.

"That's not skepticism." she corrected as she snapped her seatbelt in place. "That's caution."

Joe smiled. "Afraid I'll blow your mind with all of my talents?"

"No. But something about empty vessels and noise keep popping up in my subconsciousness." she retorted just before he pulled into traffic.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20**

There's a reason most covert operations take place at night, one important reason is that it's hard to tell real objects from shadows as they often blend together providing the perfect spying positions. This was the reason Stephanie and Lula were hunched down behind a minivan two houses away from Joe's house.

"Did you see that?" Stephanie whispered excitedly as she peered keenly at the SUV's disappearing tail lights. "I told you she would be with him."

"Can we get up from here now? My ass is beginning to tingle, and not in a good way either." Lula said as she shifted. She was dressed in her _"spying outfit"_; which consisted of black spandex tights with an orange day-glow strip down the sides of the legs, a black hoodie with "Princess" bedazzled on the back, and black knee-high Ugg boots. According to Lula, there was no reason she couldn't make a fashion statement even when doing spy shit.

"Let's go." Stephanie said as she ran towards her car parked up the block. "Hurry Lula! We can't lose them."

"Will you slow down? I'm not dressed to be doing mild cardio." Lula said as she jogged/walked behind Stephanie.

As they got into the car two familiar looking black SUV's sped past them, traveling in the same direction Joe had been driving in.

"What the...?" Lula said as she watched the black objects. "Is that who I think it is?"

"Yeah." Stephanie confirmed as she started the car and pulled out. "That's our GPS to finding Joe."

"Do you think they saw us?" Lula asked as she strapped on her seatbelt.

"Don't know. Maybe. We are talking about Rangemen here."

"Huhn. Very true. But then answer me this question, if Ranger and Tank are supposed to be helping Joe and that agent, why does it look like they're tailing them?"

Huh? Now there was a question. "I don't know Lula. But I have a feeling that we're about to find out...soon."

The Rhino Cave was a red-bricked, one story, store-front structure, with a huge bay window at the front, and an elegant doorway tucked at the side of the window. It looked more like a bookstore or flower shop rather than an illicit den of iniquity. It was sandwiched between a television repair shop and what looked to Marissa to be a crack house. To say that it stood out amongst the environment was a gross understatement.

"Are you sure this is a strip club?" Marissa asked as she scanned the block. "Seems kinda out of place."

"Compared to what?" Joe asked as they walked to the entrance. "It's flesh shop. To me it looks right at home."

"I'm sensing some bitterness here."

Joe shrugged. "No more than usual. The Morelli men are not known for their warm fuzzy feelings towards each other. They drink hard, chase women, beat their wives and kids, then die of liver failure. It's a family trait."

"You don't do any of those things." Marissa said as she watched him closely. "What are you? The black sheep of the family?"

"Something like that." he said as they approached the bouncer at the door.

Joe nodded his head curtly at the two hundred and fifty pound man blocking the entrance.

The man nodded, and then said, "You Joe?"

"Yeah."

He moved his bulk out of the way and opened the door.

The inside of the club was even more surprising. A long black-top bar stretched the length of the walkway. The lighting was low, but not so dim that you couldn't see where you were going or what you were drinking. Small café-styled tables lined the walls, and standing like soldiers behind the bar was a very impressive and interesting array of liquor bottles.

But the highlight of the interior was the spacious, well lit stage commanding the attention to all who walked into the venue. The obligatory pole was stationed in the middle of the stage, and Marissa could see a scantily dressed woman grinding her way down the length of it to the beat of a rock song. There were a group of men eagerly waving bills at the woman, while another group was just sitting back looking almost drunk and taking in the show. She followed Joe as he walked to the bar. He did a complicated handshake thing with the guy behind the bar, who looked like he could be James Gandolfini's twin brother.

"Mike, I'd like you to meet Marissa." Joe said over the music.

"Hello." Marissa said with a polite smile. "Great place you have here."

"Thanks." Mike said gruffly as he picked up a bar towel and started to dry a glass. He turned to Joe. "This your new piece?"

Marissa eyebrows shot up, while Joe glared at Mike. "No asshole. Like I told you on the phone she's a friend."

Mike shrugged. "I was just asking. So what brings you over to my humble establishment?"

"Besides the fact that you owe me five hundred dollars, I'd say not much." Joe answered.

Marissa could see that this was going to require an intervention. "Uhm...actually Joe and I are working on something, and we heard that some of your customers may be able to speed things along for us."

Mike stopped drying a glass and looked at Marissa. "You a cop too?"

"Not exactly." she answered.

"Then what exactly are you?"

Marissa reached into her coat pocket and pulled out her creds. "FBI."

"Christ." Mike breathed savagely and leveled a cold stare at Joe. "You brought the fucking feds to my place all because of five fucking hundred dollars."

Joe's cop face slammed into place. "Keep your fucking voice down and listen to what we have to say."

"Is there somewhere we can talk in private?" Marissa asked.

Mike glared at Joe then at Marissa. Then when he realized they weren't going to leave until they got what they came for he called one of the waitresses over to cover for him, then led them to an office at the back.

"Whaddya want to know?" Mike asked as he closed the door.

Marissa and Joe sat on a corduroy covered sofa that looked that it time-warped itself out of 1974.

Marissa spoke first. "We understand some members of the Zamochit gang hang out here."

Mike nodded. "And?"

"And we have reason to believe that they may be involved in a case we're working on."

"What case?" he asked as he crossed the room and sat behind a small metal desk.

"The one you don't have the security clearance to know about." Marissa answered smoothly.

Joe's lips twitched as he tried not to smile.

"Tell us what you know about the gang." Marissa said. "Their drinking habits, spending habits...preferences."

"What kind of preferences?"

"Women, drugs, weapons." Joe said as he leaned back on the couch and draped an arm over the back of it. The movement caused his forearm to brush against Marissa's neck, and she jerked slightly as a tingle ran all the way from her neck down to her toes. What the hell?

"What makes you think I know all those things?" Mike asked suspiciously. "What? You assume I actually know everything about every single person who walks in here. I don't have that kind of fucking time."

Marissa leaned forward, elbows on her knees; hands clasped in front of her. "Mike, maybe I didn't make this clear in the beginning. I work for the FBI. You know, the assholes that make a bullet to the head seem a lot easier to deal with rather than being buried in red tape and IRS audits."

"Now, either you answer the questions we ask you or I place a call to one of my friends at the State department, who let's just say might place an anonymous call to the Department of Alcoholic Beverage Control informing them of your expired liquor license hanging so proudly behind your slick looking bar."

She cocked her head to the side and stared at him. A thin sheen of sweat was now covering his face even though the room was a cool sixty degrees. Joe stared back and forth between the two of them and waited.

Finally Mike spoke, "Fine. But before I tell you anything I'd just like to state for the record that you're a bitch."

Joe opened his mouth to object, but Marissa stopped him with a hand on his knee. "I appreciate the compliment Mike, but I didn't come here to get on your good side. Now, start talking."

Half an hour later Joe and Marissa still hadn't gotten anywhere closer to what they had been trying to find out about the Zamochit. Seems all they did at the Rhino Cave was drink, feel up on the girls, get drunk and disorderly, get kicked out and then repeat the whole process the day after. It looked like their case was about to hit a brick wall.

"Mike, where do these guys hang out when they're not here?" Marissa asked.

"How the fuck should I know? I'm not their keeper." he responded bitterly before puffing vigorous on a foul smelling cigar that had appeared somewhere after the first ten minutes of the questioning.

"You must have heard something." Joe pressed.

Mike shot him a withering look. "Sorry to disappoint you Joseph, but I'm busy running a business here. I don't have the time to be a school girl gossip monger."

"Well since you're so busy _running a business_ maybe you could fork over the five hundred bucks you owe me."

Mike pointed his cigar menacingly at Joe. "I don't owe you shit. As I recall you gave me that money as a gift when we were at Aunt Tootsie's birthday party."

"A gift? Are you fucking kidding me? You were practically in tears when you came up to me and begged for the money." Joe's voice rose with every word.

"Get the fuck outta here. Beg you? I'll have you know Michael Morelli begs for nothing."

"Okay enough!" Marissa shouted.

The two men glared at her.

"Morelli we're gonna have to come up with a way to get that gang's attention. We need to find out where their base is and move in so we can find something to push this case along. And I'm hoping we can do that by today or tomorrow."

Joe let out a dry laugh. "Yeah, good luck with that."

Mike looked thoughtful as he puffed on his cigar. "You know, she could entertain them if you guys want their attention."

Joe and Marissa swiveled their gazes at him.

"Entertain them?" Joe asked dubiously. "I don't like the sound of that."

Marissa on the other hand was game to try anything. "Let's hear him out." she said to Joe

Joe shook his head ruefully but stayed silent.

Mike cleared his throat. "Well there's one of them called Vasya or Vasta or some shit like that who likes his girls on the tanned side...if you know what I mean." He turned to Joe. "Your friend here matches that description."

"Is he here tonight?" Marissa asked, her mind already racing.

"Yeah."

"Can you point him out to us?"

"You can't miss him. He's going to be the one with the ponytail and the obnoxiously huge medallion hanging from his neck."

Marissa turned to Joe. "How do you want to do this? I doubt he's going to be receptive if I approach him and announce I'm with the FBI. We're gonna have to go about this in a way not to ruffle his feathers."

"You want me to do it?" Joe asked.

Marissa pressed her lips together as she weighed that option. "No. I don't think he's going to be too receptive to you either."

"We could take him down to the station and question him there?"

"Yeah, but there's a huge chance he'll lawyer up before we can ask him anything. We can't hold him for anything. I just need to get close enough to ask some pertinent questions."

"Why don't you just go sit in his lap?" Mike suggested with a laugh. "You'd have his attention then."

"Watch it Mike." Joe cautioned in a serious tone. "She's a federal officer. Have some fucking respect."

"Bite me." Mike shot back.

As crass as Mike and his opinions were, Marissa was beginning to think he just may be onto something. "Hey Mike, do the girls wear costumes and wigs when they perform?"

"Yeah. Sure. Sometimes. Why?"

"I think I may have just come up with some attention." she said with a smirk.

Joe muttered a curse, and then wondered if he had any Maalox in his truck.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21**

Ranger pulled up to the curb across the street from The Rhino Cave, took out his cell phone and dialed. Tank picked up after two rings.

"What's your position?"

"I'm parked down the block. Santos and Brown are inside." Tank answered.

"Did we get a confirmation that they're in there?" Ranger asked as he scanned the darkened street.

"Santos spoke with the bouncer. He said they went in about half an hour ago, but we haven't been able to get a visual on them."

"Are you sure they haven't left?"

"Positive. The tracker I placed on Morelli's jeep indicates he's still in the area."

Ranger let the information flow through his brain before deciding his next move.

"Okay, I'm going in. Inform Brown and..."

"Shit!" Tank's swearing cut him off.

"Report Rangeman." Ranger said as he got out this SUV.

"Bombshell just showed up. And she's not alone. Lula is with her. Shit!"

Ranger leaned against his truck and tried to suppress a sigh. He hung his head and closed his eyes tightly. What were they doing here? The minute he asked the questioned he decided to take it back from the Universe as he wasn't sure he wanted to know the answer.

"Heads up." Tank said in his ear. "They're coming your way."

Ranger flipped the phone closed and hurried to stand in a nearby alley way. He watched with a knot in his stomach as Steph and Lula talked their way past the bouncer and slipped into the club. Great. Could this night get any worse? How was he supposed to try and find Marissa while trying to keep an eye on Stephanie?

It was obvious Marissa was avoiding him, and knowing her like he did, she would probably keep on avoiding him until she went back to New York. But he had to talk to her. She had to know the truth about his feelings towards her and where he stood with Stephanie. He wanted her to know that his decision wasn't made with a light heart, and that he had gone through hell to make the choice that he did. He wasn't the type to string a woman along just because he could. Opportunist or not, he had his limits.

The hard part he knew would be trying to get Marissa alone for five minutes. Would she even let him explain, or would she ignore him and go about her business with Morelli? His stomach clenched as he thought of Joe with Marissa. He knew they were working together, but it seemed they had gotten pretty tight in the past couple of days. Was there something going on between them? An image of Joe holding Marissa back as she tried to run to Lester's rescue flashed before his eyes. His hands had looked a little too comfortable around her waist.

Jealousy shredded his insides. What the hell was wrong with him? Even when Stephanie was with Joe he never felt like this. Sure he felt frustrated, annoyed, disheartened and confused when it came to dealing with their revolving relationship—but never jealous. He had accepted the fact that Stephanie and Joe had a history together that was rooted deep in familiarity, family and community acceptance. But he was not about to accept that Marissa and Joe had anything in common other than the job they had to do together. Truth be told he didn't want to.

But just how much did Joe know of his relationship with Mari? Did she tell him that they had been intimate? Did she tell him about the trips to New York? The phone calls? The text messages? And if she did go into the details about the scope of their relationship, was Morelli just poaching to piss him off?

Had karma come back to bite him in the ass for all the times he dragged Steph into the alley, or the times he had spent in her apartment and she at his? God, he hoped not. He needed to find Marissa before things got worse. And as he walked towards the club he prayed that he wasn't too late.

Marissa pulled the shawl she had wrapped around her a little tighter and took a deep breath. What had she gotten herself into? She was in one of the dressing rooms trying to mentally prepare herself for what she was about to do. In spite of the more than fifty undercover operations she had been involved in, she never got over the stage fright that seemed to go along with the tasks. The thought of pretending to be something she wasn't made her stomach clench violently, and she sat down hard on the wooden chair in front of the dressing room mirror.

The woman staring back at her was a stranger. Marissa's short bob had been replaced with a waist length, straight, black wig that Mike had stored in one of the supply closets. Her eyes were rimmed with black eyeliner, and her lips were blood-red and glossy.

Her attire had been transformed also. Her conservative khaki cargos and turtle neck had morphed into denim shorts and a long-sleeved grey hoodie that was cut short and ended just below her breasts. She had borrowed the items from one of the strippers. At first when she held up the garment to her frame she began to have second thoughts about whether she could pull the plan off on account of the garments being two sizes smaller than she was. But in desperate times conformity was the name of the game.

The door opened and Joe walked in. "Hey. You're looking a little pale there."

Marissa made a face at him. "Blame it on the tourniquets I currently have on. I swear the tags said _Barbie_. Plus there's no room for my gun. I feel naked."

Joe smiled. "Your gun is safe." he said and opened up his coat to reveal the Glock tucked securely in his waistband. "I like the hair. Gives you a mysterious look. Let's see the rest of the outfit."

Marissa shook her head. "I'm saving that surprise for when I'm on the stage. Plus my ego can't handle you running off screaming at the horrendous sight."

He didn't see the humor in her statement. "Right. I still hate this plan you came up with though. I can't believe you're gonna go out there and entertain those lowlifes. Have I told you how dangerous and stupid I think this is?"

"Not in the past ten minutes. Refresh my memory." she said sarcastically.

"I'm supportive of the endeavor, don't get me wrong. But the whole thing is just plain risky."

Marissa decided to ignore him. "Did you fix the tracker?"

"Just barely." he snorted. "What the hell did you whack it with? A sledgehammer?"

"I told you I got lost in the emotions."

"Yeah, I could tell. Anyway, I managed to reconnect most of the wiring so in the event this Vasya dude needs a little more customer service", Joe made air quotes, "it should be viable enough to give us an okay signal if you get it attached to him."

"Wow. I'm impressed. What were you? Like the Navy's MacGyver or something?" she asked clearly in awe.

"No, just a regular sailor who took two semesters of electrical engineering in order not to blow himself up while working around the missiles."

"Smart." she murmured. "So if I do get close enough to Vasya to get the tracker attached how are we going to pick up the signal? It ran on RangeMan's frequency, and I doubt we're gonna go over there asking them to give us his coordinates."

Joe snorted. "Got that right. But leave that to me. I know a guy who owes me a favor."

One of Marissa's eyebrows lifted. "Is he legal?"

"Depends on your definition of the word and which country's laws you're abiding too." Joe replied.

Marissa smiled at him. "Joseph Morelli, are you walking that legally grey line? If so, I'm loving it."

"Don't get too excited yet as we would still have to find him. He's not the type to stick around anywhere too long if you catch my drift."

Marissa nodded. "Noted."

"Anyway, I think I got something you can use as a tattoo." he said as he reached into the back pocket of his jeans.

According to Mike, most of the strippers at his club had tattoos, and he suggested that if Marissa wanted to go for authenticity she should try to find one. She had put Joe on that task while she went to fit into the child-sized clothing that was currently giving her a wedgie.

Marissa watched the two decals Joe held out for her inspection. "What are those?"

"Stickers. It was the only thing I could find at the gas station down the street. They were in one of those coin machine things."

Marissa scrunched her face up as she tried to decide which pattern she wanted. Her choice was either a pair of wings or a rose.

"Which one would you pick?" she asked Joe.

"I'm partial to wings. More hardcore. Reminds me of my tattoo."

She looked at him intrigued. "You have a tattoo?"

He let out a short laugh. "Of course I have a tattoo. Every guy in the Navy has a tattoo. Never let it be said that Joseph Anthony Morelli wasn't a team player."

"Can I see it?"

"When?"

"Now?"

He stared at her. "Why?"

They looked at each other and laughed when they realized the direction their banter had been taking.

"This is why law enforcement entanglements never last." Marissa said when their laughter died down. "Someone actually has to answer a question and not be the interrogator all the time."

The statement wasn't lost on Joe. She did have a point.

"Here hold these." he said thrusting the stickers at her.

He reached for the hem of his sweater and pulled it up to his neck. Marissa tried to concentrate on the eagle on his chest, but was having a hard time as Joe's well sculpted abs were in her direct vision. She swallowed hard and stood up to get a better view of the skin art...or so she told herself.

"Nice." she said as her eyes roamed over the drawing. The eagle was in flight and seemed to be heading towards Joe's nipple. It was colored in brown, black and white, and Marissa thought it suited Joe.

"Why the eagle?" she asked. "Why not one of those tribal tattoos, or your mom's name or something? Aren't those more popular and cool looking?"

Joe chuckled and pulled his sweater back down. "I wasn't going for cool when I got it. I got it because I wanted something that symbolized my free spirit and the power I felt at the time. Most of which I now realized was just my youthful zest for life, and lack of responsibility to anything and anyone. But now as I've gotten older and wiser, it represents a deeper level of the things I want for my life."

"Things like what?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "You know the usual things a man wants for his life. Strength, good health, a woman who loves him unconditionally, and to be financially secure."

Marissa cocked her head to the side and studied him. "Something tells me there's more than that. In myth and legend, the Eagle was the Sun God, symbolizing light and power, with fire and water as its elements. It was the symbol of spiritual power and courage, fearless in thunder and lightning, but when shown in imagery with the snake, it symbolized conflict."

Joe looked impressed by her summation. "You forgot to mention one thing though."

"What's that?"

"One of the Eagle's most unique traits is that it's one of the few animals that mates for life." he said in a low, smooth tone.

Something hot and delicious skittered through Marissa, and the air was suddenly cracking with tension. She broke their eye contact; very aware of the fact the she had very little clothes on, and a very receptive, hot-blooded male standing less than two feet in front of her. When did she get so attracted to Joseph Morelli?

For the past couple of days something had been building between them. And while she enjoyed their easy banter and camaraderie, she was equally confused and attracted to the way he stirred up her hormones and emotions. But yet, still, she felt guilty. Guilty because even though she saw the blatant attraction between Carlos and Stephanie earlier on, a part of her still cared for him deeply.

A while ago she had reluctantly come to terms with the fact that she would have to share him emotionally and physically with Stephanie. Even if he didn't realize it, she knew deep down that he couldn't stay away from the eye-catching brunette. It didn't bother her so much then because she had been busy with work, and the fact that they lived in a different state just added to the laid-back manner that was their relationship. But now, she was having a hard time dealing with her decision.

What she'd seen on those monitors told her a completely different story about what she had perceived Stephanie's and Carlos' relationship to be. But she wasn't going to rant and rave and throw a jealous lover's tantrum. That was not her.

So come Friday, when she had to go back to New York, she was preparing herself for a clean break, and to give Carlos and Stephanie her blessing. She was going to move on with her life with the help of work, alcohol and a few one night stands to ease the discomfort left by her heart being stepped on. She was convinced that after a month of doing all of that she would be back to normal. She just had to be.

A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts and Mike poked his head in. "Three minutes before you guys are on." he said then left.

Marissa took a deep, nervous breath. "You ready?"

"I'm not the one that should be ready. I'm just a prop." he said. He took the stickers out of her tightly clenched hand. "Where do you want the tat?"

"Uhm...err." Her mind was racing, and her heart was beating in her throat.

Joe looked at her and grabbed her by the shoulders. "Okay. You're over-thinking this whole thing. I know you can do this. Look at me."

Marissa closed her eyes.

"Look at me." Joe said again more forcefully.

Reluctantly she opened her eyes and turned her face up to his. When he was sure that he had her attention he spoke. "You're going to go out there and dazzle these assholes. And when we're sitting in front of a review board trying to save our jobs, we're gonna look back on this and laugh. Hopefully we'll be drunk as hell too."

A smile erupted on her face. "Good God! I've created a monster. What happened to the man who was yelling at me a few minutes ago about how dangerous and stupid he thought this was going to be?"

He smiled back. "When in Rome, right? Now, are you going to let me see what's under that shawl so I don't pass out from lack of blood to my brain in front fifty drunken men?"

She bit down nervously on her lower lip. "I don't think..."

"Okay, what did I just say about over thinking?" Joe interrupted.

"But..."

"Open. It."

"Fine." she said and opened the shawl dramatically.

"Oh. Fuck." Joe breathed.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22**

Stephanie and Lula sat at the back of the smoke-filled room trying to go for the incognito look.

"Wow, I can't believe Morelli's cousin owns this place." Lula said as she looked around the dimly lit room. "Must make for interesting conversation around the table come Thanksgiving. Do you see Morelli?'

Stephanie's head whipped from side to side. "No. But I do see Santos and Brown near the bathrooms, so they must be in here somewhere." she said as she pulled her SEALs cap down lower on her head.

"Is my Tank with them?" Lula asked excitedly as she stood up.

"Lula!" Stephanie whispered fiercely. "Sit down! You're blowing our cover!"

"What cover? Ain't like they don't know we're here already. I'm sure somewhere on a RangeMan security monitor you're lighting up the screen like the Rockefeller Christmas tree."

Stephanie glared at her, but couldn't argue because there may have been some truth to her statement.

A waitress, dressed in a short black skirt and an extremely tight t-shirt with the words "_**Rhino Cave**_" printed across the front of it, approached the table. "What can I get you ladies tonight?"

Stephanie ordered a Coke while Lula ordered a Long Island Ice Tea. The waitress announced she'd be back soon and flounced off.

"What?" Lula asked when Stephanie narrowed her eyes at her.

"What's with the alcohol?"

"It's not like we're working or anything. Plus, we're in a damn strip club; it's the law to have an alcoholic beverage when in a place like this. In fact, we should have these drinks on the house on account of your boyfriend cousin's owns the place."

"For the last time Lula, Joe is not my boyfriend."

Lula shot her a dubious look. "Well he's something, because he has you all the way in Newark following his ass. You holding out on me white girl? Are you trying to get back with Officer Hottie or something?"

The question stunned Stephanie. Was she trying to get back with Joe? The memory of the night in his kitchen flashed across her mind, and she was grateful for the dim light that hid her flushed face.

"I'm not trying to get back with Morelli. We both agreed that it was over."

Lula wasn't deterred. "So does that mean you and Ranger are moving forward?"

That was an even tougher question. What were she and Ranger? They worked together, so they were colleagues. He cared about her, so they were friends. He made sure she got the training she needed to be efficient at her job, so he was her teacher. But yet still he was holding her at bay when it came to the romance part of their relationship. They weren't moving forward with it and they weren't going back. They were stuck in limbo, and quite frankly Stephanie was getting weary of the non-movement.

But as much as she wanted to start something permanent with Ranger, she was still a little bit scared of him. Sometimes he moved or spoke with such detached emotion that she sometimes wondered if he was a robot in disguise. His thinking was such that it was either is or isn't, do or don't, yes or no, will or won't. There was never a maybe. And call her an optimist, but she liked to think that maybes softened up the harshness of reality sometimes.

But if she and Ranger got together would she be willing to live in his analytical world and be content with it? She loved him, but romance novels aside, was love enough to overcome any and all differences in lifestyles and personalities?

Stephanie huffed out a frustrated sigh and leaned her head back on the booth.

"Uh oh. That don't sound good." Lula said. "What drama is going through you head now?"

"Just thinking about some life questions." Stephanie answered.

"Yeah, a strip club would have that effect on you." Lula said. "All these drunken fools in here are probably pondering whether to go home to their drab unhappy lives and nagging wives, or stay here, get piss drunk, spend all their money and then go home to their nagging wives. Thoughts like that could find you with a shot gun and some bourbon, wondering if angels really do exist."

Stephanie looked at her. "You talking from experience here?"

"Of course I am. The only difference between a strip club and a corner on Stark is the building. Look at that chick grinding up all over that pole. Do you see her smiling?"

Stephanie looked at the blonde, weary looking woman on the stage in front of her. She seemed to be in some sort of trance, and definitely no smiling was going on there.

"Uh oh." Lula said as she looked toward the entrance. "Batman just walked in."

Stephanie slouched lower in her seat. "Did he see us? Is he coming over here?"

"Doesn't look like it. He's walking over to the guys."

The music suddenly died down and Blondie got off the stage. A man appeared on the stage holding a microphone. Stephanie recognized him as Joe's cousin Mike. Damn, the man looked like James Gandolfini.

"Okay gentlemen, we have a special treat for you tonight." He motioned to someone on his left and Joe walked onto the stage. "Seems my cousin Joe here is back to being single..."

He was interrupted by an uproarious amount of shouting, yelling and clapping. Lula looked at a stunned Stephanie with wide eyes, while to the far corners of the room the three Rangemen went perfectly still.

"Okay, okay. Calm down." Mike said when the cheering had almost died down. "As I was saying, my cousin here is single again, and to celebrate his bachelorhood I decided that one of my girls should give him a special welcome back to the single life."

There was movement behind them as one of the strippers brought out a chair and placed it in the middle of the stage. Mike gestured for Joe to sit on the chair then announced. "Please welcome to the stage one of my new dancers, Merry."

A figure wrapped in a shawl tightly around her body stepped onto the stage and walked towards Joe. She wore a pair of red, strappy stilettos that showcased her toned legs, and her waist length hair hung around her face like a veil. She stopped in front of Joe and stood in a wide-legged stance with her back to the crowd.

The men were going wild and proceeded to cat-call and suggest lewd things she could do to them with the shawl. Joe was leaning back in the chair looking rather pleased with himself. His eyes flicked up to look at _Merry_ and he gave her a warm, reassuring smile.

Lula and Stephanie looked at each other with their mouths hanging open. Were they really about to witness what they thought they were going to witness? At the same time their waitress appeared with their order. Without taking her eyes off the stage Stephanie said to her, "I think I'm gonna need a scotch on the rocks instead of that Coke."

The lights in the room dimmed some more and a spotlight appeared on the stage and shone brightly on Joe and _Merry_. The shawl dropped, and a collective gasp permeated the room. There was a smattering of "_Oh fuck yeahs_", and "_Holy shits_", but for the most part everyone was waiting to see what _Merry_ was about to do.

Lula leaned over to a wide-eyed Steph and whispered, "Think Officer Hottie can survive what she's about to do to him?"

Stephanie shot her a look that told her now was not the time to be asking questions. She glanced over to where she knew Ranger was standing, and caught a glimpse of his stony expression. If you didn't know him you would think he was waiting for the show to start like everyone else, but Stephanie didn't miss the way a muscle in his jaw was working furiously. This was the equivalent of Ranger being pissed off. Not a good sign.

Strains of a popular Jamaican dancehall song filtered through the club and _Merry_ began to rotate her hips slowly.

With everyone's attention now solely focused on the stage, no one saw the two men dressed in black at the side of the room struggling to hold back another man dressed in black from rushing up to the stage.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23**

Hell yeah! Joe thought excitedly.

Earlier on, when she had shown him what she had on underneath the shawl he had been flabbergasted to say the least. He hadn't been prepared for her almost nakedness. All that smooth, caramel-colored skin, all those soft round mounds. His arousal had been instant and his mouth had gone dry.

"Oh. Fuck." he managed as he stared...and stared, and stared.

"Well?" she asked. "Do I look passable or what?"

Passable? Was she crazy? She was BEYOND passable.

"Morelli? Should I find something else to wear?" she asked with uncertainty lacing her voice.

Forcing his eyes up to meet hers he shook his head. "No...errr...what you have on is fine."

She frowned at him. "Fine? Not great, but fine? I don't think fine is going to get us close to that gang." She looked thoughtful. "Maybe I should change. I saw a sequined thong somewhere."

The thought of her in even less clothes sparked a rise of panic in him. "No!"

She gave him a surprised look.

Joe shifted as he tried to alleviate the snugness in his jeans. "Look, what you have on is going to do the job. Trust me when I tell you that."

He watched with a mixture of disappointment and relief as she pulled the shawl around her again. His illicit view was now replaced by a lifeless blue wall of fabric.

Marissa stared at him. Studying him. "Okay Morelli, let's cut through the bullshit. Tell me exactly what you think."

His eyebrows shot up. "About what?"

She gave him an exasperated look." About what I have on. Does it do anything for you?"

Ha! What a question, he thought. It was doing LOTS of things for him. But none of which he was about to share with her though. He didn't want to be labeled a pervert. But the way she was glaring at him told him that he'd better say something quick before she hurt him. He scrubbed a hand over his face in a frustrated gesture and tried to form sentences from his jumbled thoughts.

"You want the truth?" Better to make sure, right?

"I always want the truth." she said.

He cleared his throat. "You look really, really, extremely good."

She made a disgusted sound. "You sure know how to fluff up a girl's ego there Morelli."

Joe grimaced. He had been trying to go for respectful, but it seemed she wasn't interested in his Catholic guilt.

She seemed to sense his moral dilemma. "Are you trying to be a gentleman here? Cause if you are, then let me tell you that it's not what I want you to be right now. I want you to be one of those men out there. Drunk, disrespectful and extremely needy. Go for it."

Joe gave her a tight smile. He couldn't do it. No matter what she wanted him to be, even make believe, he just couldn't deliver. He had too much respect for her as a fellow officer of the law and as a woman. His mother, despite the behavior his father had exuded, raised him to respect women of all ages. And no matter how old he was Angie Morelli's words and warnings were wrapped tightly around his consciousness.

"Okay Morelli, you're off the hook." Marissa said with a dramatic sigh. "Don't want you busting brain cells just trying to say some dirty words."

He grinned at her and she stuck her tongue out at him as she sat back down in the chair.

Two minutes later Joe was sitting on the stage trying not to break out in a cold sweat and praying that his erection was not visible to audience. His eyes caught on something towards the back of the room. Was that a SEALs cap? Was that Stephanie sitting at that table? No. It couldn't be? Why would she be here in the first place? He was sure it was his nervousness just playing tricks on his mind.

Mike announced Marissa by her stage name and she walked on looking extremely nervous. Her hand gripped the shawl in a death grip, and her face was hidden from the crowd by the long wig she wore. God, she looked sexy. Funny thing was Marissa seemed so oblivious to the spell she could weave on men.

Joe had never dated outside of his race. The opportunity had never come up. But to him attraction was attraction no matter what skin color or features it came wrapped up in. And he was definitely attracted to her.

But what the hell was he thinking? In a couple of days she was gonna go back to her life in New York, and probably write off their temporary partnership as part of doing her job, while he would just go back to the hamster wheel that was his life, and chalk up this experience as a professional adventure.

Either way both of them would probably forget about all the sexual tension that was occurring between them now in about a week. It was better that way, wasn't it? Right now they had a task to complete and she was counting on him to do his part. And being the professional that he was, he was going to make sure it went off without a hitch.

Joe leaned back in the chair and relaxed his body. Authenticity was key when dealing with scumbags, and right now he was going for the "_just one of the scumbags" _look. She stood in front of him in a wide-legged stance looking like she was about to be sentenced to death. He caught her eye and gave her a reassuring smile, and was pleased she gave him a genuine smile back. A blast of bright light illuminated the stage around them and he was momentarily blinded by its intensity.

The shawl dropped and there was a collective gasp from the audience. Then the cat-calling began and the lewd suggestions. It took all of his restraint not to hop off the stage and resort to his past bar-brawler ways. Those assholes were just begging for it. Then the music started and Marissa's hips began to move slowly to the beat.

Holy shit! His fingers gripped the sides of the chair. He didn't know what to let his eyes focus on. Her curves and humps were in his line of sight. Her hips jiggled and she turned around making the sticker of the eagle he had placed earlier on her lower back seemed to dance right along with her. Her denim extra-short-extra-tight shorts molded to every curve and crevice on her lower body.

She had left the front of the shorts unbuttoned more out of necessity than to make a fashion statement. After numerous tries of trying to get the button to stay in place, she finally had given up when she realized she would have to not breathe in order to conduct that feat. Joe watched in a haze of mild arousal as she held onto the pole to the side of her, leaned forward slightly and jiggled her ass to the beat. Where the hell did she learn to dance like that?

The clubs he went to didn't play dancehall music like this. Maybe he should request that they do. He could hear the men in the crowding cheering and slapping the table tops. Marissa turned back to him dipping, rotating and undulating her hips in the most sensual manner he had ever seen in his life. Christ! He was going to have to buy new boxers for sure. And just when he thought the dance couldn't get anymore sexual, she rolled her hips and proceeded to gyrate her way smoothly to the floor then back up.

Joe tried to think of anything other than the sensual sight that was in front of him—-the name of every player on the New York Yankees baseball team, his checking account number, when his mortgage was due and even how many gray hairs he had on his head. Nothing worked.

He finally decided to give up the fight and enjoy the fact that an incredibly sexy woman was making him the envy of every man in the room. And just when he was beginning to fully enjoy the experience he caught movement towards the side of the room. Three men in black caught his eye. No, it couldn't be. Joe kept on staring. Was that Manoso? Shit! How the hell did he find them? Never mind that, why were his two boys holding onto him like that?

Joe watched as Ranger deftly broke away from their grasps and proceeded to make his way towards the stage. Then out of nowhere a huge figure grabbed him from behind and wrapped a meaty arm across his chest? Tank? This was not going to end well.

And just when he thought evading Manoso and his boys were going to be the biggest challenge of his night, Marissa straddled his legs and proceeded to roll her hips seductively against his thighs. All sane thoughts flew out of his head. And as he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her closer to him he knew he was a dead man.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24**

Ranger was going to kill him.

It wasn't going to be a quick and easy death either. Morelli was going to feel the most pain the human body could go through before deciding that death was far better than being alive. And just when he thought the grim reaper was going to come and rescue him from the torture, Ranger would bring him back from the edge to inflict even more pain.

Ranger had walked into the club just in time to see a well-endowed, g-string-clad, blonde woman walk off the stage. Strip clubs were not his favorite place to hang out, but every once in a while he would come out with the rest of the RangeMan guys when he needed to release some pent-up stress and aggravation. He'd scanned the low lit room and found Bobby and Lester standing towards the side of the room near the bathrooms.

"Anything?" he asked as his eyes swept the perimeter of the smoke-filled space.

"No Mari yet. But Steph and Lula are towards the right of the room towards the back." Lester supplied.

Great.

"We haven't spotted Morelli either." Bobby said. "He could be backstage though. That's the only place we didn't check."

"What are they doing here anyway?" Lester asked. "I never pegged Morelli for the strip club type. It's odd behavior even for him."

Ranger looked at him. "You're forgetting he's with Mari. He hasn't done anything he would normally do in the past two days."

Lester nodded. "Be that as it may, it just seems weird to drive out all the way out to Newark when there are perfectly decent clubs in Trenton. What's so special about this club?"

"Morelli's cousin owns this club." Ranger supplied. "Maybe he's being the hospitable host and showing her around."

Bobby made a sound at the back of his throat that was a cross between a laugh and a snort. "The last time I checked strip clubs weren't landmarks in Jersey."

Ranger was about to tell him to mind his own business, when Morelli's cousin Mike walked onto the stage. He introduced Joe, and Ranger and his men watched keenly as he walked onto the stage looking slightly embarrassed as the audience cheered and clapped about his newly single status.

Wait a minute. If he was on stage, where the hell was Mari? An uneasy feeling rose up within Ranger as he watched one of the dancers bring out a chair onto the stage for Morelli to sit in. Then he heard Mike introduce one of his new dancers _Merry_ and the uneasy feeling blossomed into a ball of nausea and slight panic.

Ranger watched as a curvy woman with long black hair walked onto the stage. She was wrapped in a shawl draped closely around her body. He knew that body. He'd explored it countless times. He watched as she stopped in front of Morelli and stood before him with her legs spread wide. The men in the audience were enjoying the entertainment while commenting loudly and rudely about the woman's attire. Assholes.

Then Morelli did something that caused all of Ranger's suspicions to come slamming into him full force. He smiled at the woman. He was not an expert on strip club etiquette, but Ranger was pretty sure men don't go around smiling like they're best friends with the woman who was about to give them a lap dance. There might be some leering, polite indifference and maybe even some sheepishness. But warm and friendly? Maybe in a Japanese gentlemen's club, but not in the seedy part of Newark, New Jersey.

Before he could process his next move the lights dimmed and a spotlight was blasted upon the stage illuminating the woman and Morelli. The shawl dropped from around her body and a collective gasp from the audience permeated the air; even Bobby and Lester seemed to be in shock. And that was saying a lot as they were the kings of anything pertaining to naked women and vice.

"Sweet Jesus." Lester muttered as he stared at the stage. "I think I just found the love of my life for the next twenty-four hours."

Everything inside Ranger had stilled. It was as though he was looking at the scene before him outside of his body. This could not be happening. Was he the only one who knew that _Merry_ was actually Marissa? Of all the crazy things she had done since he'd known her this was by far the most reckless. She was practically naked standing on that stage. How did she fit into those shorts anyway? And when the hell did she get a tattoo on her lower back? Then the music started and Ranger saw her rotate her hips slowly to the beat. What the fu...

He lunged towards the stage only to feel himself being held back by two pairs of strong arms. Every gyration of her hips, sway of her ass and bounce of her breasts seemed to add fuel to the anger that was already coursing violently through him. Morelli on the other hand looked as though he had just found Santa Clause's house and workshop. He was looking at her as if he knew her...in the biblical sense.

Ranger struggled some more against his restrainers, and just when he thought he was about to break free a huge arm wrapped itself around his chest and hauled him off his feet. Tank.

What the hell was Tank doing? Ranger thought angrily. Marissa was his friend too. He should've been trying to help him take her off that stage.

Ranger struggled uselessly to free himself from Tank's iron grip. He was about to use a few combat moves to gain some leverage when he heard Lester mutter _"Oh fuck."_

Turning his eyes reluctantly towards the stage he saw Marissa straddling Morelli's legs as she rocked her hips against him. Of all the years he'd known Morelli he'd always viewed him as a smart and sensible man. But as Joe wrapped his arms around Marissa and pulling her closer to him Ranger was having second thoughts.

And here he thought he wasn't going to have to use his gun tonight.


	25. Chapter 25

**Chapter 25**

After receiving a thunderous applause and _tips_ thrown haphazardly upon the stage during her performance, Marissa was working her way through an adrenaline rush.

"Holy cow!" she exclaimed to Joe as they made their way off the stage. "I did it! I thought I was going to throw up, but I did it."

"You did great." Joe confirmed watching her with smiling eyes as they walked back to the dressing rooms.

"Are you kidding me? We did amazing. Look at this." She held up a wad of crumpled bills to his face. "I'm sure there's at least three hundred dollars here."

"You earned it." Joe said. "You definitely earned it. You're more dangerous than I thought. I have no idea where you learned to dance like and neither do I want to know. Something tells me it might involve circus clowns and midgets, and I don't think my brain is ready to wrap around that story."

She smiled wide at him. "Stop it. Here." She thrust the money in his hands. "I believe I promised to get you your money back from Mike. It's not five hundred, but it's a start."

Joe pushed her hand away lightly. "It's your money."

"A promise is a promise Morelli." she said shaking her head and handing him the bills again.

"You already paid me in full with that lap dance. Plus, we have company."

He was looking over her shoulder with alert eyes and Marissa sensed their jovial mode was about to end.

Ranger stood a few feet in front of them with a blank look on his face. But it was the way he was standing that tipped Marissa off to his mood. His hands were on his hips and he stood in a rigid wide-legged stance. He was angry. Well too bad, she thought. She was angry with him. She felt Joe at her back and heard him sigh.

Tank, Lester and Bobby stood off to the side with matching blank looks on their faces. They looked intimidating, and several of the dancers scurried past them with diverted eyes on their way to the stage. Marissa however wasn't fooled by their tactics.

"Are you guys here to have a good time or to give me a hard time?" Marissa asked as she approached them.

Ranger was the only one who answered. "We need to talk."

Marissa eyed him wearily. "Now is not a good time. I'm wor..."

"I wasn't asking Agent Carter." he interrupted stonily.

She stiffened at his tone, but continued to stare at him. He knew his intimidation tactics didn't work on her and she briefly wondered if it was all for Joe's benefit.

"S it would seem _Mr. Mañoso_." she grounded out.

He visibly flinched but said nothing. The line was now officially drawn in the sand.

"Is there a problem here?" She felt Joe's hand on the small of her back. His touch was meant to reassure, but because of all the exposed skin she was currently displaying it looked possessive and sexual. No one missed the way Ranger's eyes narrowed as his gaze locked onto where Joe was touching her.

"Get your hands off of her." Ranger growled. The other three Rangemen shifted behind him. They were well aware that other than a small amount of professional respect between the two men, the gloves were off when it came to _personal property._ Joe however was not fazed by the small army of men in black. Like it or not, he was still an officer of the law and would wield that power if he had too...and it wasn't going to take too much for him to go in that direction either.

Lula and Stephanie chose that very moment to appear.

"Hey, you guys move fast. We were trying to follow..." Lula stopped talking when she saw the void looks on everyone's faces. "Who died?"

Stephanie however wasn't interested in finding out that question. What she wanted to know was why Joe's hand was looking so comfortable on Agent Carter's curvy hip. She didn't get time to finish her train of thought because movement caught her eye and she saw Ranger step closer to Joe and Agent Carter. Uh oh. Ranger was not looking happy. Not that he did most of the time. He wasn't big on projecting his feelings, so seeing him throwing daggers with his eyes at Joe was throwing Stephanie for a loop.

Marissa however had no trouble deciphering Ranger's body language. Either he was going to get his way now or there would be hell to pay later. God, she hated when he turned manipulative. She was impressed by Joe playing the part of the hero though. Good to know she had someone watching her back, literally. But she didn't want him getting hurt because of a situation she was the main focus on.

Joe was a good guy, and while his gallantry was appreciated, this was her fight...disagreement, or whatever the hell it was. She didn't understand why Ranger was so mad at her though when he was the one caught with his hands in the cookie jar...or should she say _lips on the cookie. _How dare he follow her here and then try to use intimidation to get his way. Arrogant bastard. Well fine. If he wanted to talk, then talk they will.

With one last glare she brushed past him and made her way to the dressing room door. "Give us five minutes." she said over her shoulder, knowing that Joe would try to follow. "I just need to clear some things up with Mr. Mañoso."

Ranger followed closely behind her, and she heard him say to Tank. "No one comes through the door."

As soon as the door closed behind them Ranger spoke. "Have you lost your damn mind?"

His voice was low and even. Even in anger he always tried to be in control of his body language and the tone of his voice. "Does the Bureau even know what you're doing?"

"Is that really what you brought me in here to find out?" she asked as she sat down in a nearby chair.

"Since when is being half naked a part of Bureau policy?'

Why was he questioning her methods? For all the years she had known him, and through all the operations they had done together, never once had he questioned her capabilities.

She stared at him. "What's this really about Carlos?"

"Your behavior out there was inexcusable and worse yet you put Morelli in a bad position that could get him in trouble with the TPD."

A dry, humorless laugh escaped from her. "Since when do you care about Morelli's well being? Maybe you put that act on for Stephanie and respect whatever boundaries you think she would understand, but don't stand their feeding me some bullshit line about looking out for Morelli's best interests. Last time I checked he was quite capable of doing his job."

"And you grinding all over him out there was part of his job?" Ranger growled.

"We're undercover. Maybe you forgot, but the reason I'm even in Trenton is to work on a case, and right now that's what I'm doing. There's a gang out in the audience that I'm trying to infiltrate. But you and your...possessiveness are making that kind of hard for me right now."

"Maybe it's because I can see how what you're doing is a bad idea."

"What is your problem? Since when have you doubted my instincts?"

"Look, just be glad I haven't rip Morelli's arms out of his sockets. This is me being nice."

She narrowed his eyes at him. "Nice? You call barging in here acting all Neanderthal, nice? I don't buy that Carlos, because something tells me you're trying to cover up your real intentions for being here. Why are you following me? Because of what I saw happen at RangeMan earlier on?"

His jaw clenched. "That was something you..."

"Wasn't supposed to see?"

His eyes held hers. Something dark flashed within them. "I was going to say something you wouldn't understand."

She made disgusted sound. "You're fucking right I don't understand."

He dropped his gaze.

"I'm not the jealous type. But I don't like being lied to. You said nothing was going on between you and her. You told me her uncertainty about how she felt about you made the decision to move on with your life easier."

"I didn't lie to you." he said softly but firmly. "What happened wasn't planned."

Marissa let out a bitter laugh and shook her head. "Does it even matter at this point? I could understand that you still have strong feelings towards her. I don't expect those to just go away after you've felt them for so long. But what I don't understand is why tell me you're ready to move on with me, and then the minute you think you can get away with it you turn around and wrap your lips around her tonsils. Help me understand that."

Ranger didn't know how to. Explanation of his feelings and emotions to other people were just a nonexistent factor in his life. Marissa took his silence for disregard, and brushed past him and made her way to the door.

Ranger felt as though all the air had been sucked out of the room as he watched her open the door and leave.

How was he going to fix this? The bigger question, and hardest of them all was, was it even fixable?


	26. Chapter 26

**Chapter 26 **

Stephanie stared at Tank's massive chest. What the hell was going on behind that door?

When she and Lula had tried to press their ears up against the door to '_gather information' _they had been promptly removed by Tank and deposited near Bobby and Lester, who were leaning up against the adjacent wall. Lula had stuck her tongue out at him, while Stephanie sent him her best bitch look. Tank wasn't fazed though. Maybe because he had experienced more radical behavior from other inquisitive women at some point in his life. That didn't deter the two women though.

"Can you hear anything?' Lula asked at she held onto Tank's massive shoulders and tried again to lean in closer to the door.

"Nothing." Stephanie said from behind her. "It's like they're not even fighting. Where's the screaming and shouting? Who the hell fights silently?"

Tank just shook his head at them and stood like a massive pillar in front of the door. Joe on the other hand looked like he was ready to pounce the instant any noise filtered through the door.

Hmmm. Very interesting, Stephanie thought.

"Do you think it's so quiet in there on account of he may have killed her?" Lula asked.

Five pairs of eyes looked at her.

"What?" she said. "The man looked ready to kill. Especially Morelli here."

She turned towards Joe. "Are you dying or something?"

He stared at her. "No."

"How about suicidal?"

He narrowed his eyes at her. "No."

"Then why the hell were you feeling up all over that agent. If it weren't for my Tank here Ranger would've bust your ass up good. And that would've been such a loss on account of your ass being so damn fine. But as fine as it is, it's still not the best ass in Trenton. My Tank here has that covered."

"Now, I don't know about your front, on account of Steph never talks about her sex life, but I'm guessing it's pretty good, considering we always knew when she got laid cause she came in all glowy and shit. Good dick will do that to a woman. I swear at times I thought she was dickmatized."

Stephanie looked at Lula with a horrified expression on her face, while Lester and Bobby's lips were twitching in amusement. Tank and Joe didn't think it was that amusing

"What?" Lula asked Stephanie. "It ain't like he didn't know that."

Stephanie looked at Joe and gave him an apologetic smile.

Joe had his eyes closed as though he was trying to block out what was happening around him.

Stephanie glanced at the closed door again. It was awfully quiet in there.

"Maybe we should knock to see if they are alright." she suggested to Tank.

"They're fine." Tank said.

Stephanie began to pace. "Do they always fight like this?"

Tank stared at her. "They don't fight."

"Is she his girlfriend?" Lula asked. "Cause I ain't never seen Batman so riled up about a woman. I swear steam was coming out of his ears."

"You would have to ask Ranger that." Tank said.

Joe let out a wry laugh. "Are you fucking kidding me? He has you guys so well trained you can't even answer a question without his approval. Unbelievable."

Stephanie's eyes got wide. What the hell was wrong with Joe? Why was he baiting the Rangemen, especially Tank? He really did have a death wish.

"Oh damn." Lula said. "Officer Hottie here is letting it all hang out tonight. Why don't you tell us how you really feel?"

The door opened and Marissa walked around Tank's massive frame. She seemed surprised by the audience, but said nothing. All eyes were on her. Some looked concerned and some were assessing. She felt self-conscious for a moment but reigned in her emotions as tightly as she could. Hard to do when she was falling apart on the inside.

But tears and emotional outbursts would have to come later. Preferably when she was alone. She refused to show any signs of weakness or distress. Right now she had a job to do, and she was going to do it even if it killed her...literally.

"Are you okay?" Joe asked as he searched her face.

She nodded jerkily. He didn't seem convinced though. He stared at her trying to gauge her emotional state. Her eyes were glassy and her face had a pink flush to it. She was definitely not okay. He was going to kill Manoso. But before he could move towards the door she spoke.

"Let's go do that thing that we had to do." she said to him, her voice sounded surprisingly normal.

His brow furrowed. Thing? What thing?

Ranger walked out and joined group, and Joe saw Marissa's back stiffen. He stared at her. Her eyes looked slightly pleading and she was clenching and unclenching her hands in a nervous gesture. Joe knew flight mode when he saw it.

"Uhm...yeah...the thing. We gotta go." he said to the room at large as he grabbed Marissa's hand.

Ranger shifted and blocked their path. Everyone held their breath as the air crackled with tension. They watched with as Ranger leaned towards Marissa and whispered something to her. She nodded, and he kissed her on her temple.

Stephanie's eyes grew wide, while Lula sucked in a breath. The three Rangemen watched them with keen eyes, while Joe looked slightly weary. Then without looking at Ranger, or the rest of the group, Marissa let Joe guide her down the narrow hallway.

"Holy hell." Lula breathed. "What just happened there?"


	27. Chapter 27

**Chapter 27**

Mike was waiting for Marissa and Joe when they emerged at the bar.

"Seems you have a fan club." he said to Marissa. He nodded towards the stage area. "I've had five requests for you since you came off. You got Vasya's attention."

She smiled as a sense of relief washed over her. "Nice. Now to work my magic."

"I thought that was what you were doing on the stage?" Mike said with a grin.

Marissa and Joe exchanged glances.

"No my friend, that was just me getting warmed up." she said before she walked to where the audience of men were.

Joe looked on in trepidation feeling utterly useless. He watched as she approached the group and stood in front of a smarmy-looking man wearing a huge medallion necklace. He said something to her and she gave him a smile. A chair was vacated next to him and the man gestured for Marissa to sit down. Joe let out a sigh and sat on a stool.

"How you handling that?" Mike asked him as he put a glass of amber liquid in front of him.

"Handling what?"

"Special Agent Sexy there. She sure knows how to shake that ass. Have you tapped it yet?"

Joe glared at Mike. "Thanks for reminding me why I think you're such an asshole."

"Sheesh! I was only asking a question. You two seemed kinda...close. And from what I saw on the stage, well, let me just say, you two looked really _comfortable_ to just be working together."

Ranger and his men walked out from the back and stopped next to Joe. They surrounded him from all sides exuding the clear message that they were making a statement of intimidation. Mike looked on with prickly interest. He didn't want any trouble in the bar as his customers were already of the jittery persuasion. One wrong move and all hell could break loose. He decided to stick close to make sure that that did not happen.

Joe however wasn't fazed. He'd had to deal with Ranger and his employees for far too long to not know their intimidation tactics. His past calm demeanor was mostly due to his involvement with Stephanie, and his willingness to not rock the boat where her friendship with Ranger was concerned. But now all bets were off. He was no longer interested in keeping the peace or trying to be civil. This was the new Joseph Morelli, and his apathy was raging.

"I'm leaving her in your care." Ranger said in a low, firm voice.

Joe turned and looked at him. "She's not one of your toys. Might help for you to realize that."

Ranger raised a dark eyebrow at him. "Are you telling me how to conduct my personal life Morelli?"

Morelli snorted. "I'm telling you that she doesn't need you watching over her like some Papa Bear all the damn time."

"What I do and don't do with her is none of your concern." Ranger said as a dark look flashed over his features.

Joe stood up and came within half a foot of Ranger. A volatile tension hung in the air as they stared at each other.

"You know what the irony of that statement is Manoso? It's the fact that you should've taken that advice when I was with Steph."

Tank stepped between the two agitated men. "Here is not the place to have this discussion."

Ranger nodded knowing fully well that Tank was trying to keep the RangeMan reputation intact. If this confrontation had happened at one of the RangeMan offices his next move would've been physical without a doubt. But he reigned in his irritation and took two steps back. He had no doubt in his mind though that they would cross paths again soon.

"What's going on?" Stephanie asked as she and Lula joined them.

"Nothing Babe. Just having a conversation." Ranger said as he gave Joe one last glare before turning his gaze on her.

"Uh huh." Stephanie said. "You've got that same look on your face when you offered to shoot Ahmed Fahed."

"Same irritation, different body." Ranger said before he brushed past Joe and walked to the exit with the other three Rangemen following close behind.

"Are you okay?" Stephanie asked Joe as she watched him with concerned eyes as he sat down on the barstool again.

His cop face was in place. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She shrugged. "It's just that you seem to be...not yourself tonight."

"Well maybe you don't know me as well as you think you do." Joe snapped.

Stephanie's eyes grew wide, while Lula sucked her teeth. "No need to be rude and all." Lula said to Joe. "My girl here was just making an observation. But if you insist on getting your boxers in a knot I can meet you outside and we can settle this. Cop or not I will whoop your ass."

Stephanie looked horrified. "Lula!"

"What? He should learn to have some damn manners. Somebody ask you a question you answer it, not try to take their head off."

If that's the way they wanted to play it, then Joe decided he was game. "I've got a question for you two? What the hell are you doing here?"

They responded with silence and wide-eyed looks. Postures shifted, but no answers.

But Joe didn't need an answer. His bad mood was ebbing away just by watching them try to come up with what would be in their minds a number of _valid_ reasons for their snoop-fest. Their torture was cut short however when Marissa walked up to the group. Her eyes flickered to the two women then to Joe. "Detective, can I speak with you privately for a moment?"

"Huhn." Lula said. "You see how they're excluding us and shit. Now that's just rude."

"Christ." Joe muttered before pulling Marissa further down towards the end of the bar.

"You need me to take care of your...situation?' Marissa asked in a low voice as she shot a look at Stephanie and Lula, who were trying to not appear as if they were observing her and Joe but failing miserably.

"No. I've got it covered. It won't be the first time I've been tag-teamed by them. Did you plant the tracker?'

"Is the sky blue?" Marissa asked with a smile. She didn't wait for Joe to answer. "I also managed to get invited to an exclusive party tomorrow night courtesy of the Zamochit gang."

His eyebrows shot up. "How did you manage that?"

She gave him pointed look.

"Okay, forget I asked that. Where is the party?"

Marissa shrugged. "Don't know yet. I got instructions to call at six o' clock tomorrow evening to get the directions."

"Smart gang. They don't want word getting out. Should you even be talking to me in plain view of them?"

"Don't worry. I told them you were my pimp and I had to go get permission to come to the party."

"Your pimp?' his voice rose. "Bad enough I'm in Newark getting lap dances from female FBI agents, now I'm a pussy peddler. How the hell am I supposed to explain this to Targa if he finds out? I'm seeing some desk duty in my future Carter, and it's gonna be thanks to you."

"Stop worrying. I've got this all under control. I'll explain it all to Targa. At this point he's willing to go along with anything if it's going to get him some federally funded program money. You have to play the bureaucratic game with these people Morelli. Know what buttons to push and cocks to stroke."

He gave her a barbed look.

"Not literally Morelli. Sheesh! Get your mind out of the gutter."

"Whatever. The point is I don't have that kinda savvy. I'm a homicide detective. Washington politics is not in my everyday schematics."

"Good thing I'm here then." she said giving him a warm smile. "Stick with me and in no time I'll have you known as Targa's point man."

"Sounds painful." he said with a grimace.

"No more than usual." she tossed back playfully.

"And how come you're so sure about this? What if Targa decides to be a hard-ass and see through my political uncouthness?"

"Calm down Morelli. You're just skeptical now because you haven't seen the plan in action. Trust me, okay? Now grab my arm and pull me towards the dressing rooms. Do it hard." she instructed.

His brow furrowed. "What?"

"Slimy medallion dude is watching. And if you're supposed to be my pimp you have to act like one."

Joe closed his eyes and suppressed a sigh. "Why do I get the feeling that this is going to come back and bite me on the ass?"

"More doing, less talking." Marissa hissed. "And call me a bitch or something to add to the grimy image."

Figuring it was now or never Joe grabbed one of her arms and began dragging her towards the back of the club, whilst Marissa pretended to struggle against him.

"Don't fight me you worthless bitch!" Joe yelled whilst trying not to grimace at the fact that those words actually came out of his mouth.

Stephanie and Lula couldn't believe what they were seeing...or hearing.

"Did he just call her a bitch?' Stephanie asked as she watched the disappearing couple in shock.

"Oh yeah...a worthless one too." Lula confirmed. "What has gotten into Office Hottie lately? Seems like for the past few days he a totally different person. First with the whole morgue business, then he's getting lap dances and now he's calling women bitches and shit. Maybe aliens took over his body or something. I read about that shit happening in a Reader's Digest once."

Stephanie was beginning to wonder the same thing. It seemed as though Joe had morphed into a totally different man overnight. Before he had been always mindful of the TPD's rules and regulations, and now he was clearly flipping the bird at them.

It was as though he was playing by his own rules and operating on a different level of conduct. One that whilst was still within the law and judicial protocol, was no longer black or white but an array of Crayola colors.

And the strange thing was, those colors were turning her on.


	28. Chapter 28

**Chapter 28**

"Where to now?"Marissa asked as they left the club.

She had changed back into her street clothes much to Joe's relief. All that exposed flesh had him a constant state of mild arousal that at times bordered on just plain torture.

"We're off to see a guy I know about getting us a feed on that tracker you planted."

"Who is this guy? Friend of yours?" Marissa asked as she pulled her knit cap lower on her head. The temperature had dropped significantly since they had gone into the club.

"Nah. He was one of Steph's FTAs a while back."

"And you trust him?"

"Hell no." Joe scoffed. "But he's the only person I know who can piggyback the tracker's frequency on someone else's network without getting caught. And since it's a RangeMan's tracker we're using I really prefer not to get caught."

"And what makes you think he's just going to do this for you? You got some dirt on him or something?" she waggled her eyebrows at him.

"Let's just say that he owes me a favor."

Marissa looked at her watch. "It's almost eleven. Isn't it bad etiquette to go visiting at this hour?"

"Don't worry about it. This guy keeps unusual hours."

"And why's that?"

"It's the nature of his job." Joe said vaguely.

"Uh huh. Does Stephanie know about this favor?"

"What's your ETA on wrapping up this case?" Joe asked hoping to divert the attention away from him.

Marissa wasn't fazed by the maneuver, but opted to let it slide…for now. "If the organizational structure is as complex as I think it is with this gang, I'd say anywhere from twelve to forty-eight months."

Joe let out a long, low whistle. "Four years? That's a damn long time."

Marissa shrugged. "Not really. If you look at most federal cases, four years is nothing compared to the time frame it usually takes the Bureau to get their cases rolling towards a guaranteed indictment. We're talking eight to ten years here mind you."

"How do you stay focused for so long? What's your motivation?"

She let out a sigh. "I don't know. All I know is that once I've started something I like to see it through to the end. Good or bad."

"Uh huh. Seems that transcends into your personal life too."

She cut her eyes to him. "What the hell does that mean?"

"It means that from what I saw tonight it seems as though you let Mañoso get away with stuff even though you know that the end result could never come out in your favor."

"Excuse me?" She stopped walking, while her eyes shot daggers at him. Who was he to judge what she did and did not do where Carlos was concerned?

"Don't tell me you as blind as Steph is when it comes to his manipulative ways. The man clearly has a God-complex that neither of you seem to even be aware of on account of he uses his money and his looks to get away with it."

"I'm sensing some bitterness here."

"I'm not bitter. Just..." He ran a hand through his hair in a frustrated gesture. "It's just that I don't like seeing people I ca…be used in order to placate someone's ego."

Marissa didn't miss his interrupted slip up. Did Joe Morelli care about her? A shiver ran through her at the enormity of that revelation. Maybe he meant in a big brother kind of way. But then again throughout the night, starting at his house, he had been flirting with her in spurts. They had had a moment in his kitchen, and she had even let her mind carelessly wonder what it would be like to kiss him.

Her guilt drowned those thoughts though. Just because she had been hurting and angry with Carlos didn't mean she was going to use Joe as a crutch to fill the void of self-pity nesting within her. Would she be using him though?

"I'm not being used Morelli." she stated firmly.

"How can you be so sure?"

"Because Carlos and I have an understanding."

"Which is?" Joe asked as they reached his truck.

"None of your business."

Joe remotely opened the locks, and they climbed in hurriedly, anxious to get out of the biting cold.

"Is it the sex? Can't see how it could be anything else but that though with you all the way in New York and him here."

Marissa stared at him. "Are you analyzing my sex life?"

"I'm just curious. That's all."

"And the activities of my vagina have you flexing your detective skills?"

It wasn't his skills that were currently flexing the moment she had said the word _vagina_. He swallowed hard. "Look, all I'm saying is that there has to be a reason for you putting up with all that Man in Black bullshit."

"There is." she said as she strapped on her seatbelt.

He stared at her waiting for her to continue. It was only after a few seconds went by that he realized she wasn't going to volunteer anymore information.

"So you're not going to tell me what it is?" he asked as he started the ignition.

"Nope."

He pulled into traffic. "Then answer me this then, what did he whisper to you earlier on?"

Marissa let out a wry laugh. "My God Morelli, drop it already would you. My relationship with Carlos is not something I'm going to discuss with you."

"Why not?"

"Because it doesn't concern you. Just like how my friendship with you doesn't concern him."

Joe glanced at her. "So we're friends now?"

Marissa leaned her head against the headrest and closed her eyes. "You're still under review, but yes, I consider you a friend."

"Review?" he scoffed. She could hear the teasing tone in his voice. "After I let you rub yourself all over me tonight I still don't make the grade?"

Marissa laughed loudly as her eyes flew opened. "What do you mean_ you let me_? As I recall you almost passed out when I straddled you."

"Please! I was just trying to look like I was having a good time. I didn't want our cover blown."

"And I suppose that semi-erection you were sporting was part of the cover?" she asked dubiously.

Joe stared straight ahead. "You saw that?"

"More like felt it."

"And?" There was a catch in his voice.

She turned her head and smiled at him. "Are you fishing for compliments Detective Morelli?"

He sent her a self-conscious glance. "Err...no...it's just..."

"It felt...promising?"

Joe nearly ran off the road.

The Cloverfield Apartments on Grand was two blocks from Hamilton. Joe parked the SUV on the street and turned off the engine.

"Look, before we go in I want to make sure you're prepared." he said as his eyes scanned the surroundings.

Marissa frowned at him. "For what? Do I need my gun?"

"The guy we're going to see is a little different?"

"Different? Like how?" Why was Joe being so vague?

"Let's just say he's not your average human."

"Is he alien?" Marissa teased with a small smile.

Joe glared at her. "Not funny. Just try to keep an open mind when we get there."

Marissa shrugged. "Alright. But with you being so vague and all I can't promise anything."

Randy Briggs was not what she was expecting. And as she stared at the three foot tall man outside of his doorway she summarized that she had just about seen it all in her line of work. This little balding man who was dressed in khakis and a button-down shirt was going to hack the tracker? He looked like he belonged in a kindergarten.

She heard Joe call her name.

"Huh? What?"

Joe narrowed his eyes at her. "I said this is Randy. He's the best when it comes to computers and software."

"Are you sure? Because the last time I checked Hacking 101 wasn't offered in elementary schools."

"Ha, ha. You friend here got jokes. If that's the case I'll see you later." Randy said and then slammed the door shut.

Joe glared at Mari. "Didn't I tell you to keep an open mind?"

"Yes. But you didn't tell me we were going into the wild world of midgets." Marissa argued.

"That's little person you loser!" a voice shouted from behind the door.

"Did he just call me a loser?" Marissa asked as she reached for her gun.

"Carter! No!" Joe chastised as he grabbed her hand away from her holster. "No guns. What? You gonna shoot the guy for being rude to you?"

"I've shot people for less." she said through clenched teeth and yanked her hand out of his grip.

"Behave." Joe said as he knocked on Randy's door again. "Come on Briggs. Open up."

"Not until you lose the moron." Randy said from the other side of the door.

"Moron?" Marissa said heatedly as she reached for her gun again; this time successfully yanking it out of the holster.

"Put it away." Joe growled. "Let me handle this."

Marissa glared at him. "Fine. But if he calls me another name all bets are off."

Joe nodded then knocked on the door again. "Open the door Randy or else your neighbors are going to find out what went down in the holding cell after Steph brought you in on that knife charge."

Marissa grinned. Blackmail. Nice.

Five seconds later the locks tumbled and three feet of pissed off computer hacker stood glaring at Joe.

"You said no one was ever going to find out." Randy said as he looked up and glared at Joe.

"No, what I said was the other inmates were never going to find out." Joe stated as he brushed past him and went inside. "I also recall you telling me if I needed anything to ask. Well, I need something and asking."

"What happened at the holding cell?" Marissa asked as she closed the front door behind her.

"None of your business!" Randy snapped as he began to pace the room.

Okay. Obviously this was a sensitive subject Marissa surmised. Best to let Joe handle this one All she wanted was to get the tracker up and running by any means necessary. She busied herself with looking at the disturbingly vast array of computer equipment occupying almost the entire living room of Randy's apartment. Interesting.

Joe cleared his throat. "Look Briggs, I need you to piggyback a tracker off of a network."

"Who's network?"

"Any that won't land you or me in jail."

"That's a big favor."

"Did I mention it's a RangeMan tracker?"

Randy's eyes grew wide. "That's suicide. The answer is no. I'm not hacking Manoso's network."

"You'll be virtually invisible Briggs. I changed the frequency. He won't be able to pick it up once we have it switched on. I only need the tracker on for the next twenty-four hours." Joe hoped his explanation would ease Randy's mind.

"No. Manoso can kill me way before then." Randy said nervously as his pacing picked up.

"Carlos will not kill you." Marissa said as she pressed a few keys on one of Randy's keyboards.

"Maim? Yes. Kill? Maybe two years ago."

"Who is she?" Randy asked Joe as he gave Marissa a weary stare down.

"A friend of Ranger's."

"How good of a friend?" Randy wasn't convinced of her authenticity yet.

"Good enough to keep you alive if you do get caught." Marissa answered as she poked another key.

"Stop touching that! I don't want your sloppy prints all over my equipment." Randy yelled.

Marissa stiffened and was about to show him just how sloppy she could get when Joe cleared his throat noisily. Marissa got the message loud and clear. Fine. She would play along. But if Randy came at her again all bets were off.

Joe tried again. "Look Briggs, I know you could do this in your sleep. Like I said, I just need twenty-four hours.

Randy paced some more while running his hand over what was left of his hair. "And you're sure Ranger won't find out?"

Joe looked over at Marissa who was sitting in a chair by the computers, flipping absently through an issue of Information Week.

"Carter?"

"Huh?"

"Will Manoso be able to track what Randy did?"

She shrugged. "Eventually. But no worries. By the time he does he'll have other things to worry about."

Joe frowned at her. "Other things like what?"

"Nothing that would concern you." She closed the magazine. "Is your friend up to this or not? Because as far as I can tell the only thing he's up to is his couch."

Damn, Joe thought. She really had to go there?

"Excuse me?" Randy yelled. "Don't come in my house and disrespect me!"

He whirled angrily on Joe. "Tell your friend to watch her mouth Morelli. I am well respected in the computer community for this bitch to be stomping all over my reputation."

"What reputation?" Marissa scoffed. "The only thing that has been established since I showed up here is that you are an angry little man who's mad at anyone who's as tall as a refrigerator."

"Mari…"

"You doubting my skills lady?" Randy sneered as he pointed a stubby finger at her.

"Marissa narrowed her eyes at him. "Yes."

"Out. Of. My. Way." he growled and shoved Marissa out of the computer chair.

"Hey! Watch the hands!" she yelled as she barely managed to keep from falling to the floor. "Little person or not I will hurt you."

Randy ignored her and began clicking away on his keyboard. "What's the serial number Morelli?"

Joe pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and rattled off a series of numbers and letters. Marissa went to stand next to him.

"How did I do?" she whispered from the side of her mouth.

Joe shot her an indignant look.

"I told you to keep an open mind." he whispered back.

"That was me being open-minded. And see? It worked. We're making progress."

She flashed him a wide smile and Joe couldn't help but feel that at some point he'd gotten sucked into The Matrix without the red pill.


	29. Chapter 29

**Chapter 29**

Stephanie stared at the door trying to decide if to let herself in or if to wait for the guys in the control room to call him and let him know that she was out there. She knew it was late, but she needed answers.

Lately she had been feeling too many weird emotions, which included, but was not limited to doubt, ennui and trepidation. She needed to know where she stood in Ranger's life. He was the biggest mystery in her life at the moment. She knew where she stood with Joe. Nowhere.

She missed Joe, and sometimes she craved him, but she knew that that was not enough to sustain a viable relationship. Plus it seemed as though he was moving on. Lately he seemed harder. Edgier even. And something told her that the man she knew from her childhood and fell in love with was not there anymore.

She let out a sigh. Maybe she should've gone home and gotten some sleep instead of just showing up here. She didn't know what she was going to say to Ranger. But knowing herself, she knew that planned conversation or not, it would all come tumbling out in a giant ball of emotion, frustration and self-preservation.

She was about to go back to the elevator when the door opened. Ranger stood in the doorway dressed in black sweatpants and nothing else. His hair looked damp, and judging from the weary look on his face he had either been preparing to go to bed, or had been there already.

"Babe, you're scaring Hal in the control room." he said and opened the door wider, an indication for her to come inside.

Taking a deep breath for courage, Stephanie strode past him and made a bee line for the couch and sat down.

"Is this business or pleasure?" Ranger asked as he closed the door and made his way to her.

She watched as he strode towards her like a lion stalking its prey, and licked her lips as her eyes fell where the waistband of his sweats rode low on his hips.

"Keep looking at me like that and I'm going to assume it's the latter." he said giving her the full 200 watts.

Stephanie knew it would be so easy to agree with him and get caught up in the fray of his sexual delights. But she didn't come here for that. She'd come to get answers to questions that had been plaguing her for a while; and some that had emerged at the strip club in Newark.

"What's going on with you and Agent Carter?" she blurted out, figuring she'll get the most difficult questions out of the way.

Ranger sat down next to her on the couch. His lips were drawn in a tight line, but his face gave nothing away.

"Where is this coming from?"

Was he serious?

"It's coming from the fact that for the past couple of months things between us have been...different. You told me once that if Joe was out of my bed long enough you would be back in it. Well news flash Ranger, Joe and I broke up almost three months ago and you have yet to show up in my bed or in me."

"Babe, did it occur to you that maybe I was giving you space and time to get over Morelli."

"I am over him." she said waving her hands in a frustrated gesture. "Didn't you hear the part about us breaking up?"

"You've broken up before and gotten back together. What makes this time different?"

She narrowed her eyes at him. "I don't know. But this time it's final. No more going back. I'm ready to move forward."

He stared at her. "And you think you're ready to move forward with me?"

"Not think. I know I'm ready." she rushed out vehemently.

He raised a dark eyebrow. "And how do you know that?"

She made a frustrated sound. "Because I feel it. I can't explain it. I know we would never have a _conventional_ relationship. But then again, have we ever? I know your life doesn't lend itself to relationships, but what about companionship? The things I feel for you are way beyond anything I can even explain. All I know is I want to be with you. But for the past few months I've been getting a different vibe from you. It's almost like you're distracted. And at times it's as if I'm bothering you or something, and you're only tolerating me. Is that it? Am I just a nuisance?"

Her face was a stony mask as she tried to reign in her emotions, and when Ranger reached out and ran a finger gently down the side of her face she almost lost it.

"You can never be a nuisance Babe." he said softly. "Not to me anyway."

"And Agent Carter? What is she to you?"

Silence.

"Is she...special in your life?"

"Depends on what your definition of _special_ is."

"Like sexually intimate special."

He seemed to take a deep breath before answering. "We have been intimate yes."

Stephanie felt as though her heart was about to rupture in her chest. Somewhere in the back of her mind she knew that Ranger probably slept with other women. He was human after all, or so she hoped. But the fact that one of those women was actually someone she had met in the flesh was freaking her out. An image of Agent Carter grinding against Morelli flashed across her mind and she wondered if the pretty agent ever treated Ranger to a dance like that.

"She's never done that to me Babe." Ranger said with a small smile. Damn ESP.

"But she has done other stuff?"

"Where is this going Babe? Did you come over here to grill me about my sexual activities, or did you come here for another purpose?"

She didn't like his tone. Not that there was one either, but Stephanie wasn't up for the normal vagueness that was Ranger's way of question answering.

She folded her arms across her chest in a defensive gesture. "I came here to find out if there is an u_s_. Or will there ever be an u_s_."

He stared at her for a long time before asking, "Do you think you're up to there being an us?"

"What does that mean?"

"It means that I'm not the easiest person to live with or be with on a full-time basis Babe." he explained.

"I stayed with you during the whole Slayers madness and you weren't annoying."

"True, but we're talking about unlimited time here, not just a couple of weeks. There will be times when I will have to leave you for months on end with little or no communication. And when, or if I come back, I won't be able to tell you where I'd been or what I was doing. Do you think you could handle that?"

"You've done that before." she pointed out.

"Yes, but we weren't a couple. Think about if Morelli had done that when you were together. Do you think you'd be able to endure months of not knowing where he was or what he was doing?"

Her brow furrowed. She'd never thought of that. She didn't think she would be able too though. She might have even braved Grandma Bella to find out if they knew where Joe was. She looked at Ranger. He was watching her intently, waiting for her to answer.

"No, I guess I wouldn't be able too. But it's different..."

Ranger shook his head vehemently. "It's not that different Steph, you know this."

"But..."

"I'm not saying these things to hurt you, but I need you to be very aware of what the reality of a relationship between us would be like. I'm not the best communicator. I even have an ex-wife that can vouch for that. I live by a code of duty first, people second, and the mission supreme."

There was a bitter edge to his voice and Stephanie wondered briefly the story behind it; but she knew it was unlikely that he would ever tell it to her. This was life with Ranger. He told her what she needed to know and nothing else. Once in a while he would volunteer a speck of personal information, but other than that he didn't do the normal talking just for talking thing most people did. Sigh. Could she live like that? Her life was an open book to him, while his was like the operational manual inside the Pentagon, secretive and not known about by many people.

"I get what you're saying Ranger, but I can't make what I feel for you just go away because you have emotional constrictions."

"I'm not asking you to stop loving me Steph, because I can't stop loving you either." he said softly.

Hope flared within her, but she didn't dare let it seem like they've resolved anything. "What about Agent Carter? Do you love her too?"

Ranger stared at her, his blank mask firmly in place. How was he supposed to answer that? He and Marissa had been lovers for the past few months, and yes, he cared a great deal about her. But was it love? Neither he nor she had ever said the three words to each other, and quite frankly he wasn't sure that they ever would. They both had the same attitude when it came to relationships. They sucked at it.

Marissa's line of work didn't make her the perfect girlfriend. Getting called out during a dinner date or in the middle of some sweaty sex was rough on cultivating any normalcy of a healthy relationship, especially if she was dating a regular guy not in the law enforcement field. This was probably why they had bonded so well. She lived by the same creed as he did. Her cool regard about emotions and personal commitments was almost as crippled as his were, and at times, for purely selfish reasons, he was glad she was the way she was.

But seeing her with Morelli tonight flared something within him that had him acting like a jealous lover. That wasn't him. He had been ready to kill Morelli if Tank hadn't stopped him. Was it because he loved Marissa? Or was it because of his male pride being wounded by the fact that Morelli was monopolizing most of Marissa's time and attention that would have normally have been occupied by him? God, when did he start becoming so petty? Especially about a woman.

His whole modus operandi towards women had always been predatorial. The thrill of the chase was what drove him on and fed his ego. This was one of the main reasons he had urged Stephanie to fix things with Morelli the day after they had slept together. The chase had ended. But because of his strong feelings towards her, and the fact that he did indeed love her, he had wanted to start the game all over again.

Morelli was what she had needed in her life, whist he had been what she wanted. And because he knew that Stephanie's moral code would not let her cheat whist in a relationship already, it would have been easy to resume the poaching all over again. He knew he was an asshole because of what he had done, but he also knew that at some point Stephanie had caught on to his cunning ways right before she had moved in with Morelli.

He'd hurt her by acting nonchalant about their night together, but it was the only way he knew how to avoid getting her tangled up in the mess that was his life at the time. He had meant it when he told her that there was no price for what they gave each other. She was the closest thing to a _true love_ he had ever had in his life. But just when he had resigned himself to letting her settle into his heart for the long haul Marissa had come along.

Her blatant disregard for the protocols of his life had turned him on somehow, and they had come together in mutual need. She was always up for a good time, no questions asked, no strings attached. In their line of work you took the good times where you could get them, because God only knew you may not be there tomorrow to enjoy any of them.

So yes, he did love her for her blithe attitude when it came to satisfying both their needs. They gave and took from each other what they needed to get through the day, night or the week. And when it was time for him to leave New York to come back to Trenton he had always left with a lighter spirit and great anticipation on seeing her again.

He locked eyes with Stephanie. "Yes. I care about her too. She's a great friend. A status I don't give out too often to anyone."

Stephanie studied him for long seconds then said as if she'd had an epiphany, "You're a very lonely man, aren't you?"

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"I mean, you don't let a lot of people in your life, and the ones that you do have to jump through hoops to prove their friendship to you. And when they do you still don't let them see all of you. That must get tiring."

"It's the way it has to be Babe. I have a lot of enemies who wouldn't hesitate to hurt anyone that's close to me. So if I have to suffer in order to preserve someone's life, then so be it."

She sent him a chagrined look. "Must you always be the superhero?"

"If I say yes will it impact the decision you're going to make about wanting to have a relationship with me?"

She smiled. "That decision was already made before I even showed up here."

His gut tightened as the reality of her words washed over him. His babe never disappointed.


	30. Chapter 30

**Chapter 30**

Joe maneuvered the SUV in the hotel's parking lot and shifted into park.

"Thanks again for all your help tonight Morelli." Marissa said as she unbuckled her seatbelt. "Now that Briggs has the tracker up and running, we should have no problem finding out what the Zamochit gang is up to. I'll meet you at the same time tomorrow?"

Joe looked at her as if she was talking in a different language before he switched the engine off.

"What are you doing?" Marissa asked.

"I'm walking you up." he answered in a tone reserved for five year olds.

"No you're not."

"Yes I am. You think I'll just let you get out and then drive off. I don't think so. That's not how I operate."

She stared at him. "I'm perfectly capable of making it to my room in without you hovering."

"Well I'm glad to hear it, but it still doesn't change the fact that I'm seeing you safely to your door." he stated then proceeded to exit the vehicle.

Marissa rolled her eyes and opened her door refusing to let Joe carry the gallantry any further.

"Must you always be so difficult?" Joe asked as he emerged from around the SUV.

"This isn't a date Morelli." she said as she got out and closed the door.

He frowned at her. "Are you always like this?"

"Since you've known me? Yes. Why? Does it bother you?"

Yes it bothered him. He didn't want to come out and tell her that he was trying to prolong their evening together. No, it was best to keep his mouth shut.

Then to his surprise she abruptly turned and started to walk towards the entrance of the hotel.

Taking two giant steps he quickly caught up to her which only made her walk even faster.

"Are you that anxious to get rid of me Agent Carter?"

"Yes I am." she answered stoically.

"Why?"

She stopped so suddenly that he almost collided with her.

"Did Carlos put you up to this?" she asked as irritation flooded her tone. "I saw you two talking at the bar earlier on."

Joe wanted to curse. How the hell could she think that he was one of Manoso's puppets? That was just an insult to his ego.

"Contrary to what Manoso likes everyone to assume, I don't subscribe to his way of thinking. We were talking yes, but it wasn't about what you think it was."

She folded her arms across her chest and glared at him, suspicion marring her features. "Then what were you two talking about?"

Joe shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe I was telling him just how far up his ass my foot would go if he didn't leave you alone."

She smiled softly at him. "You expect me to believe that? Carlos is not the type to take a threat like that without some kind of reciprocity, which usually comes in the form of his fist or his gun."

"You know Manoso really well I must say. But you don't know me at all."

"I know enough."

He watched her carefully. "Really? Like what?"

She regarded him silently for a few seconds. He could tell she was flipping through the pros and cons of such test.

"Well?" he asked when he grew uncomfortable by the assessing silence.

Her eyes met his. "Goodnight Morelli."

She then turned and continued walking towards the front door of the hotel.

What? Joe thought, stunned by the fact that she would leave him hanging like that. As he followed her into the lobby he couldn't help but feel that for some reason she viewed him as less than. Was she comparing him to Manoso with all his fancy cars and money? If so, that was a very unfair comparison.

"Is it because I'm not up to your _friend standards_?" he spat out.

What the hell are you talking about?" she asked as she jabbed at the elevator button.

"I'm talking about the fact that I don't own a fleet of black cars or fancy apartments. I'm talking about the fact that I'm just a detective and not some rich CEO with a security company. If those are the requirements for you to get to know me better, then I'll think I'm better off not knowing you at all."

His voice grew louder with every sentence. Luckily the lobby was empty due to the late hour so they didn't have an audience. The desk clerk however was giving them suspicious looks from behind his laminated barrier.

"How shallow do you think I am Morelli?" Marissa's temper was sparking.

How dare he label her as some status mooching groupie.

"Do you think the only reason I'm friends with Carlos is because of what he has and not because of the person he is? Maybe to you he's an arrogant asshole, but to me he's one of my best friends. Contrary to what you think I don't have a lot of people that I can call friends. To me friendship is earned, and when it is given and reciprocated I hang onto it for dear life regardless of what comes up in the process."

"And Carlos is not about his money or his cars. He built that company on his sweat and determination. I was there in the beginning watching him go through the struggle. He is the way he is because that is how his experiences groomed him to be."

"Bullshit." Joe said his anger frothing. "I can respect the fact that you only know one side of Manoso. But to every story there are two sides. And my side is grounded in the fact that he is a manipulative son-of-a-bitch who only cares about what he wants and needs."

"I'm not asking you to like him Morelli. All I'm trying to do is to make you see my reality with him. No doubt he does things that are a little bit skewed and manipulative, but that doesn't make him less of a man in my eyes. And the reason I'm holding back on getting to know you better is the fact that doing so is only going bring forth things in my life that I am determined to keep locked away for my sanity's sake."

His eyes narrowed. "What things?"

The elevator door swooshed opened and Marissa quickly got in. Joe followed close behind. No way was she going to say stuff like that and expect him to just wave her off goodnight and go about her way.

"What things?" he repeated as he watched her press the number to her floor.

"Leave it alone Morelli." she said wearily. "I'm too tired to discuss this with you right now."

He stared at her stonily. "What. Things."

She closed her eyes trying to block out the image of his irate expression. Why did she have to go open her big mouth and blurt that out to him? It was bad enough she was trying to hold up the nonchalant front she had assumed after her confrontation with Carlos. All she wanted was a shower and to crawl into her bed and forget this entire night. But as it was looking now that might just be a wish like so many other things she wanted for her life.

How did she get to this point? She couldn't even remember the last time she was really and truly happy in the past five years. Now she was sharing an elevator with a pissed off cop, who was making her feel things she really did not want to feel.

After an internal struggle on whether or not to answer him, she decided the best thing was just to stay silent. She was good at that. In her opinion talking just lead to more questions, and more talking, and more questioning. A vicious cycle that caused more harm than good. She should know as her interrogation skills had made quite a few people permanent guests at Hotel Fed, the nickname special agents gave to the federal prisons around the country.

But there was something about Joe that made her want to open up to him. Ever since they started working together on this case he had treated her in a way that made her feel unique and special, and not just in a general way but in a personal way. It was almost like he valued her as a person rather than just a colleague. Her opinion mattered to him. Her feelings mattered to him, and he took the time to listen and observe what she did and said.

Carlos was attentive also, but his attentiveness was divided between her and Stephanie. There were times when they made love that she was almost positive he conjured up images of Stephanie as he went through the motions with her, and once he even called her _"Babe"_. She had tried to brush it off and joked about it afterwards when he had brought it up, but on the inside that one word had shredded her insides. To this day she carried the memory of the pain she had felt that night.

Time had dulled the sharpness and coarseness of the emotion, but it lingered like a scar on her soul. It ate away at her already minuscule trust she had towards men, and enhanced her disillusionment about ever finding someone she could share her ragged life with. There were times when she wanted to belong to someone. To revel in the fact that someone wanted her just as much as she wanted them, without the shadow of someone else looming over experience. What a feeling that would be. Would she ever experience that?

The elevator dinged and the doors opened but Marissa made no movement to get out. She felt heavy with emotion and paralyzed with fear by the uncertain future of her personal life. She was tired. Tired of pretending, and fighting, and blocking her emotions so no one would know how vulnerable she really was. No one could ever know.

Her name spoken softly wafted in the air and reluctantly she opened her eyes, shuttered her pain and walked out the elevator. Her movements were automatic as she reached into one of her cargo pants pockets and fished out her cardkey. She felt him behind her watching her carefully. His uneasiness was palpable. She should say something to ease his discomfort with her silence. But she didn't want to. She didn't want to talk or feel or do anything; she just wanted to be left alone with her frustrations. Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would be better.

She slid the key into the lock and greeted the green light with a sense of relief.

"Goodnight Morelli." she managed through her restricted throat, her back still towards him.

"Carter, look, I..."

Why was he still talking? "Goodnight Morelli." she said more forcefully.

He got the message then. Mumbling out a terse _goodnight_ she heard his muted, angry footfalls on the carpet getting further and further away from her.

She waited until she was in the shower to let the first tear fall, and by the time she climbed under the covers she was physically exhausted and emotionally numb. Her eyes hurt from the crying and felt swollen and gritty. Her nose was stuffy and she could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping up the back of her head. The words Carlos had whispered in her ear earlier on that night at the club filled her mind.

"_I need her."_

Those three words. Not the ones she had hoped would come from him someday, but they were the ones she had suspected all along. She had stood there whilst he whispered those words in her ear trying not to breakdown in front of their motley crew of spectators. She didn't trust herself to speak so she just nodded as the shock washed over her. The kiss on her temple was his way of saying goodbye.

The only thing that had given her the strength to appear as if nothing was wrong was the feel of Joe's big warm hand holding onto hers. She focused on it and pushed down the bile that had taken up residence in her knotted stomach. But she had learned a long time ago that you didn't show weakness when surrounded by the enemy. If they were going to kill you, then your job was to make it as difficult or as quickly as possible.

A tear popped out and she swiped at it angrily. She was done crying. What she needed to do was to get done the job she was sent to do then get the hell out of Trenton. At least in New York she could occupy her time and mind with work instead of thinking about the mess that was her life. Christ. Friday could not come fast enough.

She looked at her Blackberry. Wow, she had better get some sleep before she looked like the walking dead. Bad enough her eyes would be swollen throughout the day; she didn't need a lack of energy to slow her down too. She snuggled deeper between the covers and did some breathing exercises to calm her raging mind and emotions.

A knock sounded on the door. She stilled. Her heart did the opposite and raced to a marathon speed. Maybe if she ignored it whoever it was would just go away. She was in no mood for visitors at this hour. And why was someone even knocking on her door at this hour? Hmmm…

She flung the covers to the side, grabbed her gun from under her pillow and crept stealthily towards the door in the dark. Another knock. Using the darkness as leverage she pointed the gun at the door with one hand then savagely yanked it opened. Her visitor didn't seem fazed at all at having the deadly looking Glock pointed at their head. They were expecting it.

"What the fuck do you want?" she hissed.

"You." the figure staring at her intently said. And before she could fire off a shot he lunged at her.


	31. Chapter 31

**Chapter 31**

Something primal surged wildly up inside of him the moment his lips came crashing down on hers. It clawed and snarled, begging to be released. He had been driving around for the past hour trying to work up the nerve to come and tell her exactly how he felt for her. But their earlier encounter had him on edge as they didn't exactly part amicably. How would she react to him?

He rationalized that he had better figure out what he was going to tell her before he actually got to the hotel. It had to be honest, yet explained in a way that didn't offer up any room for misinterpretation. He only had enough courage to tell it to her once. It wasn't like he went around spouting out his emotions to women on a regular basis. Ten minutes later he'd drafted out a mental outline of his speech and drove to the hotel.

But when she'd open the door with her gun pointed at him, and stood there poised and ready to maim or kill wearing only a t-shirt and panties, all rational thought flew out his mind. Her whimper of surprise when he had pounced on her only fueled his need. She fought him; pushing at his chest as she tried to knee him in the groin. But her blows were thwarted by the gun still in her hand and his innate ability to predict her self-defense moves.

For safety reasons he managed to break away from the consuming kiss and pry the gun from her able hand while snapping the safety clip back into place. Surprisingly, she stayed quiet and stood staring at him with wild almond-shaped eyes and kiss-bruised lips. Not giving her any chance on backing out or to fully analyze the gravity of their actions, he reached for her again with his free hand and crushed his lips to hers.

Marissa felt as though she was caught up in another dimension. What started out as a brutal kiss quickly morphed into one of unfulfilled need. A minute ago her world was crumbling around her, and now here she was feeling like she was on fire, with all her senses going into overload. Severe overload. If he didn't stop kissing her she feared that she might combust. With great effort she broke the kiss and pushed at his chest. The room was dark, but light from the hallway spilled in and it was enough for her to see the unbridled lust that was written all over his face. The intense way he looked at her stole her breath away and she swallowed hard. Make no mistake about it this man was here for a purpose.

"Joe, what are you doing?" The question came out in a breathless tone.

"What I should've done an hour ago." he replied gruffly. "I'm done tiptoeing around my attraction to you. I'm done trying to do what everyone else thinks I should do and not what I want to do."

"Wha...what do you want to do?"

A low growl erupted from the back of his throat just as he bent his head captured her lips again in an open-mouth kiss. This time she was ready for him, but what she wasn't ready for was the extremely sharp bite of arousal that rose up violently in her. God, she wanted this man!

Tomorrow they could deal with the awkward feelings and strained conversations, but right now he was assuaging the hole in her soul, and she was going to be selfish and take everything he was offering. Still kissing her he used his foot to slam the door shut, and then walked her backwards towards the bed. He used his big, hard body to push her onto the bed, and then he was on top of her, consuming her with his maleness.

Joe drew Marissa's t-shirt up in urgent handfuls exposing her breasts, then nestled himself snugly between her thighs and grounded his denim-clad erection into her cotton-covered soft center. He knew she wanted more by her frantic whimpers and the way her body shook from unreleased need. Her hands were clenched in his hair anchoring his mouth to hers, while her hips lifted off of the bed trying to mold themselves with his. He wanted to mark her in the most primal way a man could mark a woman but he knew she wasn't ready for that…yet.

With a growl of frustration he bent his head and suckled mercilessly on one of her straining nipples. To complete the sweet torture he held onto her hips and moved her against his straining cock. She let out a startled gasp at the contact and he captured the sound in a drugging kiss. He kept up the rhythm until she shattered explosively underneath him. Joe had never seen such a beautiful sight, and he wished that his cock was inside of her to feel her slick inner muscles clenching tightly around him. The thought sent him over the edge.

She clung to him; breathing in huge gulps of air as her heart rate slowly got back to normal. It wasn't like they had actually had sex. What he'd done was gotten her off as though they were a couple of high school kids. But surprisingly Joe felt satisfied in a way that normal hard-core sex hadn't in all the years he had been doing it. Marissa stirred underneath him and he rose up on his forearms and peered down at her. The room was dark, but the faint light coming through the windows was enough for him to see the dazed and satisfied look on her face.

"Are you okay?" he whispered hoarsely.

She made a soft pleasant sound. "Yeah, but your gun is digging into my hip."

He pushed himself off of her and rolled to the side. "Sorry. Did I hurt you?"

"Stop worrying Morelli. Hurt was the last thing you just did to me." She paused. "But you didn't...I mean I could..."

He silenced her with a big hand curling around her bare thigh. "It's not necessary."

She gave him an unconvinced look.

"This hasn't happened to me since junior high, but my boxers feel like its super glued to my stomach and balls."

She gave him a wide-eyed amused look. "You didn't?"

He gave her a boyish grin feeling a little embarrassed at the immaturity of the situation. "I did."

"Awesome." Marissa said before he could let the humiliation set in.

Joe chuckled. What was it about this woman that made any and every situation seem so laid back and natural?

"I'll be right back." he said as he rolled off the bed and made his way to the bathroom.

When the door closed behind him Marissa switched on the bedside lamp, bathing the room in warm yellow light. She tried to make sense of her jumbled thoughts. Was this a one-time thing? A spur-of-the-moment encounter, or was Joe Morelli planning on giving her something more? And what the hell was she thinking by letting him suck her into this consuming void of lust?

She tugged her t-shirt down from around her waist. God, she probably looked like a slut sprawled out half naked in a hotel room. How did her life get so out of control? Joe was probably in the bathroom right now probably wondering how to sneak out without her knowing. This wasn't her. She didn't do sexually impulsive things like this, but yet here she was in a post-orgasmic stupor after dry humping one of the sexiest men she had ever met.

The bathroom door opened and Joe stepped out dressed in only his jeans with the top button opened exposing a very tempting dark trail leading to _there._ In his hand he held his sweater, his gun and holster. Marissa couldn't help but stare. The eagle perched proudly on his chest gave him a rugged look, and his lean, well-muscled body reminded her just how feminine she was. She felt her mouth go dry, and her already sodden panties were once again drenched with moisture. She watched as he walked to the side of the bed and looked down at her, his eyes soft, but hooded with constrained lust.

"Keep watching me like that and you'll find yourself without the barrier of those clothes and me buried deep within you faster than you can take your next breath."

GULP.

She lowered her eyes quickly. Best not to tempt him while she was still unsure about what she was currently feeling. She heard him rest his holster and gun on the nightstand, and felt the bed dip as he sat down next to her.

"So, you want to tell me why you were crying before I got here?" he asked softly as he put his sweater back on.

Marissa stiffened and pressed her lips together. "I wasn't…"

"Don't even try Carter. I tasted the tears on your lips."

Shit.

She closed her eyes. She really didn't want to get into this with him. Her earlier breakdown was something that was personal and private. And even though she felt close to Joe, she still couldn't bring herself to share something that intimate with him yet.

What had to be talked about though was what had transpired between them a few minutes ago. But Marissa didn't want to talk about that either. She felt as though it would ruin the memory. If all she was going to have with Joe were those few minutes, then by all means she was going to hold onto them. She looked up at him and noticed the pensive mask he wore. He needed to know. If nothing else he needed to know her intentions towards him.

"Look, just now, between us was...great."

He raised an eyebrow at her.

"Okay, it was more than great." she admitted. "But I don't want you to think that I'm looking for anything more than that. I mean I really like you Joe, but the reality of the situation is that when I leave on Friday there's a high possibility that whatever we're feeling now is going to disappear by the time I get back to New York. And even if it doesn't, I'm not going to do a long distance relationship. I just don't have the tolerance for it. And since I'm being honest here I might as well tell you that I could easily fall for you Joe Morelli. You could be "_that guy"._

His brow furrowed. "What guy?"

"The guy that could make me normal, and want things like babies and a house and…and a JC Penny credit card."

Joe threw his head back and laughed. 'And that freaks you out doesn't it?"

She nodded.

"Mari, honestly I don't think you could ever be _normal_. And I don't want you to be either."

"You don't?"

He shook his head and ran a finger down her cheek. "I like the Marissa you are now. Bold, strong, fearless, a little bit crazy, but very smart."

She felt her cheeks heating up and focused on a point past his shoulder as she tried to keep from smiling at the compliment.

His face grew somber. "I'm not looking for a relationship either. But I'm not opposed to one happening when or if it happens. This..." he waved his hand back and forth between them. "Was totally unexpected. But I enjoyed it…a lot. The sex was amazing."

"But we didn't..."

He shook his head and smiled. "Does it matter? Same effect. I'm not going to sit here and pretend that I don't want us to take our friendship to another level. But I'm going to let that choice be yours. I want you, and I'm hoping that the feeling is mutual."

Heat pooled low in her belly as she stared at him. Where did this incredible man come from? Better question was why was he interested in her and her crazy, dysfunctional life? She was sure there were a thousand other women he could be saying those words to. Normal women. Saner women. Prettier women. Skinnier women.

He must have seen the reservation on her face because he leaned down closer to her until his mouth was almost touching hers. "Don't ever think, or let anyone ever tell you you're not worth it. You're an incredible woman who has a lot to offer a man."

"But..."

"No more talking." he said just as his mouth devoured hers.

The occupant in the black SUV, who was parked in the Marriot's parking lot counted to ten before he whipped out his cell phone and made the call he dreaded. Anxiety soaked every cell in his body like a wet sponge thrown in a bucket of water.

"Yeah." the voice said when the call connected.

"His vehicle is in the lot."

"How long?"

"Almost an hour."

"Stay on him. If he moves, you move."

"And if he doesn't?"

"Then we'll deal with it then." the voice said in a low growl before disconnecting.


	32. Chapter 32

**Chapter 32**

Dawn broke clear and cold the next day. And while most of Trenton was waking up Joe Morelli had already drank four cups of coffee, eaten two bagels, and typed up half a report on a homicide he got called in to investigate at 4am. He was beyond tired. The two hours of sleep he'd gotten in Marissa's bed at the hotel had done nothing for him. He could've gotten three, but he'd been too distracted by the woman who had lain next to him. They didn't progress to any further stages of copulation, but rather experimented with each other on what they had already done.

At one point Marissa had managed to get her hand inside his jeans and begun to stroke him, but right before he was about to lose his mind he managed to pull her hand out before things got critical. After that he decided that maybe it would be for the best if he went home. She had protested, and even suggested that he sleep on the spare twin bed in the room.

But spare bed or not, he knew that just being in the same room with her was enough to set him off and all promises he had made to himself about taking things slow with her would go out the window. He wanted her badly, and he could've easily taken things further with just a flick of his tongue. But he sensed that even though she wanted him too, she was still cautious and holding back parts of herself from him.

Maybe it was because she was still trying to sort things out with Ranger. Or maybe she wasn't into having a quick fling and then rolling out of town the next day with no regrets. He scrubbed a hand over his face in a frustrated gesture. God, his life would be so much easier if he didn't like her so much. Mind-numbingly boring, but still easier.

He glanced over at the current subject of his wayward mind. She was typing away furiously in front of a computer at Officer Kruselli's desk, looking exceptionally perky at 6am. When his cell phone rang in the pre-dawn hours he had just fallen into a comforting sleep. He had been tempted to throw the phone against the wall, and would have if Marissa hadn't woken up instantly alert. As he dressed she had insisted that she come along.

"You don't have to." he'd said wearily. "Get some sleep and I'll come pick you up later when I'm done."

"I'm already up." she said as she dug around in her suitcase perched by the closet. "Force of habit. Once a call comes in my body's on full alert."

He ran a hot gaze over her body as he watched her yank off her underwear and grab a fresh pair. "I bet it is."

She caught his tone. "Don't tempt me detective. The last thing we both need right now is to get distracted."

"You don't have to do this Carter. You've gotten just as much sleep as I have. You're exhausted."

"And so are you." she said as she pulled on a pair of jeans. "Call me crazy, but I'm actually getting withdrawal symptoms from not hearing the squawking of a radio and being in the company of uniforms and seeing crime scene tape. Did they tell you what it was?"

"Shooting. Multiple gunshots. Two victims." he explained as he laced up his sneakers.

"What kind of weapon was used?"

"Shotgun."

"Ooooh. Gory. This should be interesting."

"The crime scene?"

"No, seeing you type up that report. I suggest you just inject the coffee grounds into your veins because you're in for a damn long day." she teased as she pulled a sweater over her head.

He shot her a pained look as he shrugged into his gun holster. "Thanks for the support."

"That's what partners are for." she said smiling sweetly at him.

Now his so-called partner sat a few feet away from him, her hair in a messy bun, fingers flying across the keyboard with a look of intense concentration on her face. She arched her back to work out a kink and his dick instantly got hard as he remembered her actions towards his carnal ministrations a few hours ago. A wave of sadness washed over him.

She was leaving tomorrow. Going back to her life in New York and much to his consternation taking a small piece of his heart with her. That revelation rocked him to the core. What the fuck? Where had that come from? She had told him she wasn't interested in getting into another long distance relationship, but then again in almost the same breath she had told him that she could easily fall for him. Man, women sure were confusing.

Marissa was having a hard time concentrating on an email response she was typing to her partner Bryan back at the FBI field office in New York. Her mind was drifting even though her fingers danced effortlessly across the keyboard.

"_Don't ever think, or let anyone ever tell you you're not worth it. You're an incredible woman who has a lot to offer a man."_

Joe's words filtered through her mind. But what exactly did she have to offer other than sex? She really liked Joe. He was so easy to like. And even though she'd been in his company for less than three days she already she knew intimate things about him.

Like the fact that he didn't snore, that the side of his neck was a very sensitive area and turned him on immensely when she bit down lightly on it, that he liked his coffee with half and half and sugar instead of black like most of the cops she knew. Unbeknownst to the rest of the squad, and against departmental policy he had a Seal's knife strapped to his left ankle. The TPD department rules stated that an officer of the law could carry a knife but it had to be clipped in a pocket, in a sheath on the duty belt, or on a lanyard in a pocket. Marissa found his rebelliousness endearing, as she didn't play by departmental rules either.

She felt him staring at her and looked up. He looked tired even after four cups of coffee, but his eyes still held the heat she had seen in them earlier on. She quickly looked away and stared at the computer screen again. If she had seen that in his eyes God only knew what he had seen in hers. She stared at the blinking cursor egging her on to type another word, but her train of thought was somewhere across the room with Joe. Damn, she had it bad for this man.

Maybe if she lessened her interest in him it would make it easier for her to leave tomorrow. Maybe. How did one go about lessening their interest for an incredibly sexy man, who had the skills to administer the most earth-shattering orgasm she'd ever had with her clothes on though? This could be a problem. But she wasn't worried. She was a highly skilled agent who dealt with drug dealers, rapists and con men on a daily basis. She was highly confident could handle a cop from Trenton.

Two hours later her confidence was toppled down a few notches when he cornered her outside the side of the station as they made their way to his SUV. She stood stiffly; her back braced by the cold, solid wall, while her front was warmed by his big body. Her breath caught in her throat as he brought his face inches from hers.

"Are we going back to the hotel?" he asked in a low, intoxicating voice. His tone held promises and suggestions of everything he wanted to do to her.

"N-no. We, err, have to go to the Newark Field office, remember?"

She was determined not to lose her cool and yank his head down and plunge her tongue into his mouth like she wanted too. No. She was on her best behavior, even though it was killing her.

"Hmmm." he said. "Anything I can do to make you change your mind about that?"

_Oh yes. Lots of things. Lots of dirty, naughty things._

"Not right now. But, uhm, I'll keep you posted."

She was glad it was winter and that her heavy coat blocked out any view of her hardened nipples. If it was summer no doubt she would be fighting to explain the contrast of what she said and what her body was doing.

"Are you sure?" he asked as he ran the tip of his nose across her cheek and over her nose.

She licked her now dry lips, and bit back a curse when she saw his eyes go from milk to dark chocolate in a matter of seconds. Damn.

She turned her head away and pushed at his chest. "We should go."

He eyed her wearily, and she knew he was trying to figure out her mood. Giving him a quick kiss and a tight smile she brushed past him and made her way to the truck.

It was better this way, she thought. She could work with him pissed off at her. But him actually liking her, and her in another state missing him severely would surely tear her apart. At least with Carlos that was a non-issue. He wasn't the emotional type who got attached to anything or anyone. Experiences in his life had taught him that that process was useless and only served to get someone blackmailed or killed. But then again Carlos never made her feel utterly and completely wanted, as if she was the only woman in world. Joe had a way of doing that; even when he was in the midst of blood and mangled bodies.

At the crime scene that morning he had found a way to be near her as she sat in his truck looking on with interest. He'd come over on the pretense of getting a pair of latex gloves from the backseat, and as he put them on he'd stood giving her the update on the scene.

"One male, one female. Multiple shots to the torso. Looks like a drug deal gone bad. Possible robbery."

"What makes you say that?" she'd asked, keeping the conversation flowing and loving the fact that his shoulder was brushing against hers.

"The neighbors stated that he usually kept five to ten grand in a safe somewhere in the house. We've yet to locate it. The house is a mess. Hence the reason I came back for these." He held up his now latex covered hands.

"Reminds me of my gynecologist." Marissa teased.

"You just let me know if you want me to give you the Joe Morelli's special Pap smear." he said with a crooked smile before he walked off.

Sigh. Maybe in another lifetime she would come back as a schoolteacher or a flower shop owner, with a normal childhood and no life-altering drama. Joe deserved someone like that. Not some half-crazed FBI agent who had been diagnosed by the FBI staff psychiatrist as having mild to moderate depression. Of course Marissa didn't believe she had any type of depression at all. Her being the way she was was just a by-product of her work environment. Whoever heard of happy, well-adjusted FBI agents? They were as mythical as Hobbits and unicorns.

"You have that same look my mother always got right before she would fight with my dad." Joe said as he walked up and unlocked the passenger door.

"What look is that?" Marissa asked as she yanked opened the door.

"Serial killerish."

"I need more caffeine. No wait, let me rephrase that. I need better caffeine. I don't know what you call that sludge we chugged down in the station's kitchen, but in New York that's called sewer water. I swear my spleen has a hole in it now."

"You New Yorkers are so spoiled." Joe said as he slid in the driver's seat. "I swear they should call it The Big Attitude."

She stuck her tongue out at him. "When you're taxed to the brink of poverty all you've got left is attitude."

"Then you should move to Jersey. Fewer taxes, cheaper housing, and nine New Jersey cities made the 2008 Money Magazine's Best Places to Live list."

Marissa stared at him. "What are you? The spokesperson for the New Jersey Tourist Board? But I'm sure with all the corrupt mayors, police and politicians my job wouldn't be boring."

He shrugged. "So we have a few problems with the bureaucrats. Doesn't every state?"

"Yes, but at least they don't have the mob running things in City Hall."

"The mob does not run things in City Hall." he argued as he started the vehicle and deftly reversed out the parking spot.

She shot him a dubious look. "Oh yeah? What about in 2000 when the Camden mayor got arrested for money laundering. Then the Ridgefield, Secaucus and Hoboken mayors got arrested on bribery charges. And then the Deputy Mayor..."

"Alright. I get your point." Joe said tersely. "Sheesh. Are you always this...detailed?"

She raised a dark eyebrow at him. "Is that another way of telling me that I'm annoying?"

"You're a lot of things Carter, but never annoying. Maybe impulsive, hotheaded, extreme and neurotic, but never, never annoying." he said with teasing repartee.

"Glad to see my bad habits are at the forefront of your mind there Morelli." she said giving him a Burg-worthy eye roll.

"Are you kidding me?" Joe snorted. "Those were your good points."


	33. Chapter 33

**Chapter 33**

Stephanie awoke with a clear mind and a gut full of purpose. Today was a new day. Today was her day. Last night was about new discoveries and coming to terms with the idea that her relationship with Ranger had now morphed into something else. What that something else was she was still unsure. But the point was after three years of uncertainty their relationship was now going to be moving in a definitive direction. Was she ready for it though?

Her cell phone rang from its perch on the nightstand.

"Lo." she answered suppressing a yawn.

"Girl! I heard you up and dumped Batman last night." Lula screamed in her ear.

Stephanie's forehead creased with a frown. "Where did you hear that? Who told you that?"

Lula ignored her questions. "I'm calling to make sure you're alright and still alive 'cause I know nobody dumps the Wizard and lives."

Stephanie rolled her eyes. "I'm talking to you aren't I? So that's proof. And I didn't dump Ranger. We were never together for there to be any kind of dumping."

Lula sucked her teeth. "Potato, tomato. It's the same shit. Now look here, I don't know the nitty-gritty about what went down between you two last night, but according to my sources Ranger hasn't been down to the control room yet."

Stephanie looked at her bedside clock. It was 7:38. "Your sources? Did Tank tell you that?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. The point here is Batman is acting weird."

"Is he sick or something?" Stephanie asked, her voice filling with worry.

"Sick my ass. The man is heartbroken that's what he is. You done up and broke Batman's heart girl, or should I say what was left of his heart. You're either mighty brave or super stupid."

"Lula what the hell are you talking about?" Stephanie asked as she sat on the edge of the bed. She was wide awake now. "I didn't break Ranger's heart."

"Then why isn't he down in the control room yet? You know that man gets up before Jesus, now all of a sudden he's MIA. Girl, you done broke Batman. Congratulations."

Stephanie closed her eyes and shook her head. No. Something wasn't right with this picture. Ranger was fine when she'd left him last night. At least he looked fine. Hard to tell when the only two expressions he did were emotionless and wolf. Hmmm.

"I'll call you later." she said to Lula then hung up.

She hit her speed dial and waited. The call went straight to Ranger's voicemail. Great.

"Call me." she said.

She tossed the phone on the bed and laid back down. Maybe he went on an assignment. He did tell her that there would be times when he would have to take off at a moment's notice. But to not even call to tell her he was leaving? No, that wasn't like Ranger at all. Something was definitely up. But what?

She reached for her cell phone again and dialed. He picked up after two rings.

"Mel's Pizza."

"Santos it's me."

"What's going on Beautiful?" he asked warmly.

"Is Ranger in his office yet?"

Silence.

"Santos."

"Uhm, he's running a little late today."

"Why? Is he sick? Is he hurt?"

"To my knowledge, no."

Heh. "What does that mean?"

"What does what mean?" he asked innocently.

"Santos!"

Lester laughed. "Alright, alright. Meet me at the Tasty Pastry in half an hour."

"Half an hour?" she balked. "I just woke up. I'm gonna need more than thirty minutes to look and feel human."

"Are you coming or not?" he asked impatiently.

Ugh! Why was Lester always so impossible? "Okay fine. I'll be there in thirty. But you're buying."

"Don't I always?"

Joe and Marissa were leaving the FBI Newark's Field Office and making their way back to the TPD when her cell phone rang. She looked at the screen, grimaced and turned the Blackberry off.

"Hate to be whoever was calling you." Joe said as they climbed into the SUV.

She gave him a tight smile but said nothing.

"You do that a lot?"

"Do what?"

"That whole avoidance thing I just witnessed."

"I don't avoid. I'll call them back later."

"When I'm not around?" he asked eyeing her with slight indignation.

She replied with a sigh.

"Was it Manoso?' he pressed on as he pulled into traffic.

She stared at him. "No."

"Boyfriend?"

"No."

"Ex-boyfriend?'

She huffed out a breath. "Look Morelli, I think we should clear up a few things. Just because we...shared something last night doesn't mean that I'm gonna start including you into the rest of my life."

His face took on a guarded look. "I didn't say that you should. But ever since we left the TPD an hour ago you've been in a mood."

"And what mood would that be?"

"I wanna say self-preservation, but it's looking more like bitch."

Ouch. Okay she deserved that one.

"Well maybe that's the mood I'm in all the time." she said staring straight ahead stonily.

He made a wry sound. "You might be able to fool most people with that tough-as-shit FBI persona, but don't play that game with me. The woman I was with last night is not the woman looking like she'd really like to shoot me now."

"How do you know?" she spat. "You don't know me. Just because I let you stick your tongue in my mouth doesn't mean that all of a sudden we're some kind of couple. You know nothing about me."

"I could've stuck a lot more than my tongue in other areas of your body and you wouldn't have stopped me, you and I both know this. What's with the wall Carter? Is this how you treat all your liaisons?" The last part was said with unrestrained bitterness.

His words stung. But she deserved his anger. In fact she wanted it. She wanted him angry at her so when she left tomorrow there would be no lingering feelings or suffocating emotions that hovered around her when she got back to New York. There would be no temptation to call him just to hear his voice. There would be no wondering if he was thinking about her, and if he was missing her they way she knew she would miss him.

All that would be left was that moment, and the feeling of intense irritation that was currently burning its way through her, making her realize that Joe was just too good of a man to be subjected to the dysfunctional rollercoaster that was her life. For a fleeting moment last night, as his body was pressed so intimately with hers, she had let herself imagine that he was that was the way she could feel all the time with him, and that she was capable of being the center of someone's life.

But the reality of the situation was that she had to let him go. But God, it was turning out to be so hard. What was it about Joe Morelli that got under her armor? He was a very dangerous man to have in her life. Too dangerous. She didn't lie when she told him that he could be _that guy_. And the ironic thing was that she wanted him to be that guy. But in her mind she didn't deserve what he was offering. He should be with someone who could offer him a lot more than she ever could.

"This is the way it has to be." she heard herself say to him.

Joe made a disgusted noise at the back of his throat. "You really believe that Carter?"

She looked out the window, not sure how to respond, or really wanting too.

Joe took her silence as her answer. "I hope you like surprises then, because lady I'm not about to give up on you."


	34. Chapter 34

**Chapter 34**

"Well?" Stephanie asked through a mouthful of donut. "Tell me."

Lester peered at her over his coffee cup. "Can we at least finish eating before you start the interrogation?'

They were in the parking lot of the Tasty Pastry in the van RangeMan used for surveillance on Stark Street-a decrepit Dodge delivery van; with so much of its paint scraped off it looked silver rather than the yellow it originally was.

Stephanie glared at him as she chewed. "You made me get dressed and come out my house looking like an America's Top Model reject for this?"

Lester's gaze traveled down her body. She was dressed in jeans, her black RangeMan polo shirt, black boots, with a black North Face parka bundled around her. Her hair was in a ponytail, and she wore only eyeliner and lip-gloss. She was the most beautiful thing he had seen that morning...or for the past three years.

"You look great." he said with a smile.

Steph rolled her eyes. "Save the flattery for later. Now spill. And don't leave anything out."

She grabbed the coffee cup out his hand and he watched with mild arousal as she placed her lips exactly where his mouth had been mere seconds ago. An indirect kiss, he thought with a smile.

Stephanie was oblivious to Lester's musings. "Hmmm...this is great coffee. Now talk."

"About what?" he asked innocently.

Stephanie stilled. "You told me to meet you here specifically so you could tell me what was up with Ranger, and now you renege on the deal. Do you have a death wish or something? Because the coffee hasn't kicked in yet for my good side to show up."

"I told you no such thing. All I said was to meet me here."

Her mouth fell open. Was he serious? Did he not know the antics she went through just to get her in half an hour, and now he was being all secretive.

Keeping her annoyance in check she asked. "Then why are we here?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I wanted to buy you breakfast."

Steph cocked her head to the side and looked at him in disbelief. "Breakfast?"

Lester stared out the window and shifted uneasily in the driver's seat. "I just thought it would be a nice thing to do."

Stephanie was all out frowning at him now. "Okay, so let me get this straight. You told me to come here so you could buy me breakfast because it's a nice thing to do?"

He pursed his lips and nodded. He was not comfortable with her scrutiny. This wasn't how he planned this event would turn out. Of course his version was them getting naked and sweaty in the back of the van, but that was just his imagination being super horny. In reality Stephanie didn't know and would never know the extent of his feelings for her. She was the boss' woman. She was off limits. Very, very off limits.

He sent her a chagrined look. "Look, I didn't mean to freak you out or anything. I just thought...never mind...let's head back to RangeMan."

He reached to turn the ignition on but was stopped by her hand on his.

"Wait." she said softly. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wig out on you. It's just...one of those days."

The warmth of her hand was doing things to his body and mind, and with great difficulty he found himself pulling his hand away from hers and leaning back in his seat.

"Truce?' she said as she held out the coffee cup to him, her blue eyes wide and hopeful.

He gave her a tight smile and took the cup from her letting his fingers brush against hers. "Truce." he confirmed.

She gave him a smile and tucked one leg underneath her as she bit into another donut. "So you really aren't going to tell me why Ranger's not in the office."

God, she was persistent. But even if he could tell her where Ranger was he wouldn't. He didn't think she would understand. There were levels to Ranger's psyche that she wasn't even aware of. A fact which he knew Ranger didn't want her to know of. Tank, Bobby, Cal and himself had known Ranger since their Army days, so they understood and accepted the man that he was today.

But that didn't mean that sometimes his behavior didn't throw them for a loop—especially when it came to Stephanie or Marissa. They had watched Ranger over the years struggle, manipulate, agitate and deny his feelings for the curly haired brunette to the point of obsession. They had seen how deeply he loved her.

But on the flip side Ranger also cared a great deal about Marissa. They got each other, moved in the same intelligence circles, and at times they seemed almost like the same person by their mannerisms and train of thought.

Earlier on he had tailed Morelli back to Mari's hotel. He'd watch Joe walk into the lobby with purposeful strides and three hours later he'd watched him come back out hand in hand with Marissa looking like old lovers. He could still feel the knot in his stomach as he speed dialed and told the man on the other end of the phone what he had witnessed. Ten minutes later Ranger had shown up and took over the surveillance while Lester had gone back to the office

Now, here he sat with the woman who he had a huge amount of respect for and a crush on, trying not to appear nervous or to give out any suspect reactions as to what was going on with Ranger. He was angry with himself for deceiving her, but he was absolutely livid with Ranger for dragging him into his mess.

"There are far better things to be talking about than Ranger, Beautiful." he heard himself say.

She stared at him. "Oh yeah? Like what?"

_Like the fact that I want to taste you right now._

"We've got three skips to bring in today and none of them from what's in their files are going to come along with us easily." He hoped the change in topic would distract her.

She shot him a confident look. "Are you kidding? The Santos and Plum takedown team are not to be messed with. Look at those two creeps we brought in last week. I've never seen a drug dealer cry like that. You were awesome."

He couldn't help but smile at her recollection. She always made him seem like the hero when most of the times it was her luck and Burg connections that helped them find their skips.

"I would cry too if I had a shotgun jammed to my temple and a crazed brunette egging on the man with the gun to, and I quote, '_go ahead and take a little bit off the top'."_

"I was going with the flow." Steph said with a grin

"What flow?"

"The whole badass flow thing you and the rest of the guys seem to have going all the time."

"It's called doing our jobs."

She shrugged. "Whatever. All I'm saying is since I work for RangeMan now I too should be a badass."

"Didn't we already have this conversation?"

She frowned. "When?"

"When we started being partners six months ago."

Blank look.

"You seriously can't remember me telling you to just be yourself and be aware of your surroundings."

"That was you?" she asked.

"Christ." he breathed as he shook his head and took a swig from his coffee cup. "I really need a new partner."

"No!" she exclaimed a little too loudly. "I like having you as my partner. We get along. We connect."

"Connect?"

"Yeah, you know? We get each other."

"Really?"

"You don't think we do?"

"Can't think what I don't know about. Exactly what do you get about me?"

He couldn't wait to hear this.

She chewed thoughtfully on a piece of donut before she answered. "Hmmm…I get that you're a good guy, I get that you put on that whole macho persona to rope the ladies in, I get that you like donuts with the sprinkles on them..."

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with sprinkles." he said defensively.

"I never said that there was. I get it, remember? Anyway, let's see. I get that you like girls with big boobs, even when they're clearly fake."

"Hey, I told you I knew that girl from high school, and even back then she had big tits. How was I supposed to know she'd gotten implants?'

"Uhm, by the fact that she had dimples on her breasts and one of them was leaning to the right abnormally. Plus I told you that they were fake."

"And I was supposed to just take your word for it?"

"Yes."

"On what grounds?"

"On the fact that I have real boobs and know what they're supposed to look like."

God, did she have to remind him? He stared straight ahead. He was determined not to look at her chest, even though every cell in his body was screaming for him to.

"Okay, I'll give you that one." he said stiffly.

He heard her mutter something about men being pigs, but he was too busy trying to tamp down his arousal after hearing her say _breasts_. What the hell was wrong with him? What was it about this woman that had him acting and thinking like a teenager? This wasn't him. Lester Angelo Santos didn't get boners just because the names of female body parts got uttered. Pathetic.

"Earth to Santos." Stephanie said.

"What?"

"I asked if I could have some more of your coffee."

"I bought you coffee."

"And I drank all of it. Plus yours taste much better than mine."

"You're lucky I got the large size." he said as he handed the coffee over to her.

"Luck had nothing to do with it. You always get the large size." she said between sips. "Anyway, since you're not going to tell me what's up with Ranger let me tell you about the new Stephanie."

"What new Stephanie? What are you talking about?" Lester asked as he tried to keep his voice even and casual, but he was already anticipating the worse.

"The new Stephanie that woke up this morning and realized that she was going to start living life instead of just watching it from the sidelines." she explained with a hint of dramaticism.

"Please tell me you're not thinking of becoming a gypsy and roaming the country side of England."

"No. But it's still on my list of things to do. It's in the bucket. This however is a little more personal."

A while ago during a very long and boring stakeout they had discussed their Bucket Lists. Lester's included things ranging from deep sea diving to events containing all out debauchery in Dubai and Monte Carlo. Stephanie's was much cleaner and tamer. She wanted to spend six months living like a gypsy. She felt it would've been a freeing and bold thing to do. When she was actually going to do it however was a whole different story.

"Okay, so in what way are you going to start _living life_ as you put it?'

They had always been candid with each other about everything. That was one of the great things about their friendship. He told her things he wouldn't dare tell the other guys, while she confided her fears and analyses of her life.

She took another sip from the cup before she answered. "I'm going to seduce Ranger."

Everything in Lester stilled, and the coffee in his stomach felt like it had turned into acid. What? No, he couldn't have heard her right.

"What?"

"I'm going to seduce Ranger." she repeated.

Yep, he'd heard right.

"I'm tired of the games and bullshit. I'm tired of waiting for him to decide if we're ever going to have a serious relationship. Well no more. I'm taking matters into my own hands and going to show him exactly what he has been missing out on."

"I'm not sure I understand, Steph." Lester said slowly. Though he was quite desperately terrified that he did. "Does Ranger know about this?"

She shot him an indignant look. "Why should he? This is about me and what I want."

"Are you telling me that you're actually going to use sex as a way to make Ranger realize that he should be in a relationship with you?" Lester wasn't sure how he kept his voice at a normal decibel, especially since the urge to shout at his partner was rising with every second that ticked by and quickly becoming overwhelming.

"It's not going to be the only thing. Just most of the plan is going to revolve around it." she tried to rationalize to him.

"Steph, are you listening to yourself?" Lester demanded. "You are talking as if you are going to a freaking doctor's appointment. This is _sex_ you're talking about, for God's sake.

"I know what..." she tried to interrupt, but Lester simply shot her a glare and kept going full steam ahead.

"Sex means someone gets to touch you in ways others are not allowed to. It means someone is inside you, not metaphorically, but _literally_, Steph. Do you understand?"

Lester knew he should stop talking because even though he wanted to stay calm and collected as he argued his side of the issue, he was becoming more and more frustrated and angry.

"Sex should be intimate." he pressed on. "It should be about some kind of connection with the person you are having sex with. It should be goddamn personal! It's not about you using it as a tool to get into a situation that you think might be good for you."

The words hung there between them with all the intensity of a scream. He was breathing fast now, his anger and agitation overriding his control. He had never spoken to her like that and he was shocked at the words he had let fall from his lips, but God, something had snapped at the thought that she was actually going to go pimp herself out like that. She deserved more than that. She deserved a man who wanted to be with her just for the sake of being with her.

Stephanie's eyes widened at Lester's words. What had gotten into Lester? And why was he talking to her as though she was some virgin? Of course she knew what she was embarking on. It was her idea after all and she'd be damned if anyone was going to try and talk her out of it.

For months now she had been playing an emotional game with Ranger that always ended up with him on the winning end. When she pushed to get more intimate with him and move beyond the sexy touching and fiery kisses he seemed to always find an excuse as to why they shouldn't. For the past two months she had been masturbating at least twice a day and even had to replace her shower head. But she was sick of that process. It was time to go out and take care of business.

"Why are you giving me such a hard time about this? I though you of all people would be supportive of my decision." she said giving Lester a steely look.

Lester stared at her. Who was this woman? Whoever she was she needed to stop talking because he was thisclose to confessing his feelings for her in the hopes that she would dash her asinine plan and realize that there were other choices out there rather than just Ranger.

He cleared his throat and prayed that he could talk some sense into her. "Look Steph, I know that it's been a while for you. I know you've been waiting for Ranger to act on his promise about the whole Morelli-outta-your-bed thing, but trust me when I tell you you're going about the whole process wrong."

"I am?" she asked with wide eyes. "Well then you're the expert, how should I be going about it?"

"Excuse me? I am not an expert." he replied a little put off that that was her opinion of him.

"Yeah right." Stephanie said with a snort.

Okay, so he'd had a few, okay many, sexual encounters, but that didn't make him some sort of male slut. He just had a fine appreciation of the female form, and like a true connoisseur he reveled in the immoderation of the attention his good looks and well-defined body brought him. But that didn't mean he was some perverted expert.

"Well?" Stephanie asked growing impatient. "Where should I start? What should I do? I need to get the ball rolling on this Santos. Time is of the essence."

"Christ! You expect me to help you with this?"

He balked when she nodded.

He shook his head. "You know what? This…" he waved his hand back and forth between them. "…conversation is officially over."

"But I was just…"

"No! No more talking about this crazy idea of yours. You want my advice? Join a nunnery."

Stephanie watched in stunned silence as he started the van and pulled out of the parking lot. His face was a stony mask, and she couldn't help but wonder why he was so irritated with the new direction she wanted to take in her life. She was sure he would've been an advocate. How could she have been so wrong?

Weeks of them talking about everything and anything without judgments had given her the impression that he would at least understand where she was coming from. She was hoping that with his guidance and help she would get Ranger in her bed in no time. Now she wasn't so sure.

He was the only one she'd told of her plan, but his uneasiness about the whole thing had her doubting the validity of it. God, now she was gonna have to go to confession. Great.

Hopefully Father Julian would just tell her to say a plethora of Hail Mary's and Our Fathers to be sanctified enough to get back into God's good graces. If her mother ever found out about this…okay best not to think about that now.

What she should be doing is trying to figure out why Lester of all people was against her lifestyle change. This wasn't like him. He used to be all for the free-sexual-spirit thing. When did he morph into Lester the Prude?


	35. Chapter 35

**Chapter 35**

Ten minutes after they arrived at the TPD Joe's phone vibrated on his hip.

"Morelli."

"Got something for ya." Randy said in his ear.

"Shoot."

"Your tracker buddy made three stops this morning. One to the dock, then to an address on Liberty Street, and then he spent like ten minutes on Wallace and Hamilton."

Joe relayed the information to Marissa.

"Ask him to send the addresses via a text message so I can pull up some visuals on Google Earth." she said.

Joe gave the instructions to Randy then hung up. He watched Marissa pull up the Google Earth site.

"How come we're not using one of the Bureau's fancy-smancy programs?" he asked.

"Because that would leave a trail, which would lead to an investigation, then to questions pertaining to the addresses, all of which requires an official request which I don't have the patience to obtain."

"Trust me when I tell you this way is faster and cleaner. We may not be able to get as much detail as the Bureau's program, but at least this way we can get a visual on what the neighborhood looks like. And possibly have enough probable cause to get a search warrant. And according to the Gang's Unit reports there is evidence to support that the Zamochit are involved in illegal activities as most of their members have criminal records longer than your entire body."

"Got ya." Joe said with a wink. He was impressed by her intuition.

What they found five minutes later on Google Earth turned out to be more than they had been expecting. The address on Liberty Street was a storage company owed by a Russian mobster by the name of Mishak Velova.

Velova was known for being under investigation a few years back for a fuel fraud that accused him of rigging fuel pumps at a few of the gas stations he owned, and selling low-grade fuel as premium. However, no evidence had been found to connect Velova to the scam, but the managers at the gas stations each received seven years in federal prisons around the country. It seemed Mishak Velova was an untouchable man.

"I think we just found our probable cause." Joe said with a satisfied grin.

"I think you're right." Marissa said smiling back at him. "How about we grab some lunch before we type up the request?"

"Sounds good. There's this diner not too far from here that makes the best burgers and an alright apple pie even though the crust is store bought."

"What's wrong with store-bought crust? I've had very good pie made with them."

"All I'm saying is that homemade crust tastes way better than anything store bought. It may take a lot longer to bake the pie but it's worth it." Joe stated.

"So you refuse to eat a pie that's made with a store bought crust?" Marissa asked amused by this newly discovered idiosyncrasy of Joe's.

"Not refuse per se, but I definitely won't enjoy it as much as a homemade one. I love pie. That's one dessert not to be messed with."

"And what's your favorite pie?"

_Here it comes_, she thought. _The predictability. The All-American male answer. Will it apple or blueberry?_

Joe gave her a sly grin. "Cream pie."

Marissa laughed. "Are we talking about the ones you bake or the ones you, uhm, make?"

He grinned wider and waggled his eyebrows. "A chef never reveals his secrets."

"Maybe one day you'll show me how you like your cream pie." Marissa said with feigned innocence.

"It will be my pleasure...and yours." Joe replied huskily as he looked at her with a heated gaze.

Her phone vibrated on her hip and she answered without looking at the display.

"Carter."

"I need to see you."

"Why?" she asked. Years of schooling masked the surprise from her voice.

"Not over the phone. Where are you?"

Something in his voice began to stir up uneasy feelings within her. "I'm at the TPD. What's going on?"

"Is Morelli near you?'

Marissa frowned. This conversation was getting weirder by the sentence. "Yes."

"I'm sending someone to pick you up in two minutes. Meet him by the entrance. And whatever you do, do not let Morelli know where you are going?"

The line went dead.

_What the fuck_? Marissa thought as she stared slack-jawed at her phone. _What the hell was that all about?_

"Are you alright?" Joe asked as he studied her. "Who was that on the phone?"

"Uhm, Field Office. They're sending someone over to pick me up for a short meeting with the SAC there." she said as she slipped on her coat and grabbed her bag. "I shouldn't be long. An hour tops."

She didn't feel comfortable lying to Joe, but as she'd learn over the years with her service at the Bureau, sometimes it was best to mask the truth because the reality of the situation wasn't worth the drama.

"Do you want me to come with you?" he asked as he stood up and stepped toward to her.

"No!"

Joe frowned at her, puzzled by her outburst.

"I mean no. You'll just be waiting at reception anyway. Scarpella is kind of touchy when it comes to letting the locals in on his turf."

He nodded in understanding, but the look on his face was still full of skepticism.

"Stay and finish typing up the request for the warrant, and when I come back maybe we can still grab some lunch." She gave him a warm smile that she manipulated with great difficulty to reach her eyes.

"Okay." Joe said as he rubbed her arm affectionately. "I still have more desserts we can talk about."

"Looking forward to it." she said before she brushed past him and made her way to the exit.

Once outside she let the frigid air embrace her; distracting her from the racing thoughts banging around in her head. What the hell did Ranger want to talk to her about? She was quite sure that when he left the club the night before everything between them had been squared away in regards to the status of their relationship. Now she wasn't so sure.

A black Ford pickup pulled up in front of her, and the passenger side door popped open. She peered inside and Bobby stared back at her.

"How's it going Brown?" she asked as she climbed into the hulking vehicle with a stomach full of butterflies and a lump in her throat.

"Same ole, same ole." he replied as he pulled off.

Marissa watched the lights on the elevator panel light up as the aluminum cage descended to the lower level. Her arms were folded tightly across her chest alluding to the tension she felt coursing through her. Bobby stood next to her silently.

"Where is he?" she asked stiffly.

"Sub-level basement."

She frowned. "What's down there?"

"Breakers, generators, servers, water tanks and gas lines, fallout shelter." Bobby rattled off.

Marissa raised an eyebrow. "Fallout shelter?"

"Do you have to ask?" he said in a matter-of-fact voice.

She flicked her eyes to him and understanding passed between them. This was Carlos they were talking about. The man was always prepared for anything.

She stood by the door studying him. Reading him. Feeling him.

He looked exhausted. His eyes had a bloodshot hue to them, and his mouth drooped down a bit. His skin had a pale pallor to it, and his shoulders were hunched forward in a posture that looked to Marissa to be defeat. Stubble darkened his features giving him a sinister look; his mouth was set in a thin, disconsolate line. The compact, dimly lit room added to his unsettling appearance.

He sat at a card table with small piles of paperwork strewn all over the surface; the only furniture besides a twin bed that occupied the fallout shelter. His back was to the wall, and he faced the door. It was his habit. It was his rule. He didn't seem surprised to see her standing there.

Marissa was the one to break the tense silence. "You rang?"

He nodded and gestured for her to take the vacant seat in front of him.

She walked across the room slowly and sat down.

"Did something happen with Stephanie?"

Silence.

His lips tightened. "Why do you think this has anything to do with Stephanie?"

_Was he for real?_

"Because it always does. Remember when you thought she was getting married to Morelli. What happened?"

He made a disgusted sound and shook his head. "Let it go Mari."

"You know I can't do that." she said tightly.

They stared at each other for long seconds; each holding their ground. A battle of wills and egos.

Ranger knew she wasn't going to back down until she got the answers she wanted. That was a trait that made her such a good investigator; a quality he highly admired in her...until now.

Finally he said, "Nothing happened between Steph and I."

She stared at him for a long time. "You're lying."

Dark eyes flashed an irritated look at her.

"What happened?" she asked again more firmly.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He could never lie to Marissa….even when he wanted to. "We came to terms of the …limitations of the future of our relationship."

Her eyebrows shot up. "Really? Did you explain to her why you are the way you are?"

His eyes shot open. "You know I can't do that."

"Can't or won't?"

"Does it matter?"

"Of course it matters. This is the woman you love…"

"One of the women." he interjected.

She gave him a look the equivalent of a middle finger.

"This is the woman you love. She means everything to you. You told me you needed her. If you need her so much then why are you letting her go?"

"Because it's better this way."

"For whom?"

"I'm not…I'm not what she wants."

"What? Of course you are. She would do anything for you. You told me that. You told me that you have a bond with her that you've never had with anyone." _Not even me._

"She knows Ranger, Mari. She doesn't know Carlos." He shook his head sadly but the tone of his voice was laced with anger. "You know Carlos. You accept that part of me. And right now that part of me is the only part that seems to exist."

"You say that as though it's a bad thing." she said staring at him. "Maybe what you should be doing instead of playing devil's advocate is letting Stephanie see a little bit of Carlos and let her form her own opinions. You keep her sheltered, as though she's this fragile china doll. So you're a little weird and analytical and morose at times, but that doesn't mean you're a bad person."

Ranger shook his head vehemently. "I've killed people Mari."

"You were in a war. I've killed people too."

"But you did it in self-defense. Most of the people I've killed were innocents. God Mari! I've killed girls close to Julie's age. What the hell kind of father and man am I if I can do something like that? This is why I stay away from her. No child wants to know that her dad's a killer."

She felt his inner turmoil. She knew he wanted a better relationship with his daughter, but yet still, he held himself back from initiating more contact because he felt as though he wasn't what she deserved. He could provide for her financially, but on a more emotional level he felt totally out of his element. These were the issues he struggled with constantly. How to manage the bad with the good, how to switch from mercenary mode to normal human being, how to appear normal on the outside while he was a dark and twisted mess on the inside. The mind could only take so much before it imploded on itself.

"Have you seen Dr. Paisley lately?" Marissa asked.

Dr. Andrew Paisley was a psychiatrist attached to the Department of Defense. He was the military's "go-to" shrink when it came to post-traumatic stress symptoms.

Something menacing flashed in Ranger's eyes. "I don't need to see Paisley. Plus the last time I saw him it didn't quite go well."

Marissa narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you do?"

"Why did I have to do something?"

"Because you and I both know you take a perverse pleasure in annoying the poor man. He's only trying to help you."

"I don't need any help. The only reason I go to those sessions is because we're mandated to after a mission. And why are you all up on my ass about it? I seem to remember you almost wanting to throw him through a window the last time you went to see him."

"This is not about me. And my reasons were justifiable at the time." Marissa stated stoically.

"Yeah right. Remind me never to ask you about your _emotional blockage_ when we're in a high-rise building."

She glared at him.

"Speaking of being emotionally blocked, how are things with Morelli?"

"S'cuse me?" Something about his tone caught Marissa off-guard.

"Seems you two have gotten pretty close."

"We're working on a case, remember?" She was so not going to have this conversation with him.

"Has he broken in yet?" Ranger asked as he closed the manila folder in front of him and added it to a pile.

"Broken into what?"

"Your wall."

"I don't have a wall." she said defensively.

He shot her a dubious look.

"Just because I'm emotionally distant when it comes to personal relationships…never mind. The point is I don't have a wall."

Ranger's lip twitched.

"It's not funny." Marissa said through clenched teeth.

"I know. It's just that you deserve better than what I've been giving you."

She threw her hands up in a frustrated gesture. "Has it ever occurred to you that I think this is what I deserve?"

He frowned at her. "Explain."

Marissa pressed her lips together and stared at the floor. "Nothing to explain Carlos."

Ranger said nothing; jarred by the fact that once again he was the instigator of emotional pain that flashed across a woman's face in less than 24 hours. He really was an asshole.

"Mari…"

She held up a hand. "Save it. Let's talk about your next step in getting your life to resemble some sort of normalcy."

"And what step is that?"

"The one where you stop being inanely dense and go talk to Stephanie."

Ranger shook his head. "No. Things are going to stay as they are."

"Carlos..."

"No! Leave it alone Mari." he sneered as he slammed a fist into the table. "I've put her...and you through enough."

She stilled at his outburst.

He let out a frustrated sigh. "Sorry. It's just the way things have to be…for now. It's better this way."

"For whom? Not for you that's for damn sure."

Their gazes locked. "I'll be alright Mari. I'm used to it. You on the other hand need to focus on Morelli."

The quick change in the subject caught her off-guard. "What? Morelli? Oh no. The only thing I need to be focusing on right now is wrapping up my time here in Trenton."

"Morelli likes you. I've seen the way he looks at you."

"Uh huh. Don't mistake professional courtesy for anything sexual Carlos."

A small smile tilted up the corners of his mouth. "Give him a chance."

"I don't want..."

"Mari." He growled out her name as he interrupted her. "Please."

She let out a low growl. Why did he always have to be the martyr? "Fine, but only if you give Stephanie a chance.

"Mari…"

"Two way street Manoso." she interjected.

They stared at each other for long seconds. Neither of them backing down.

"I'll think about it." Ranger finally said.

"Think now." Marissa was in no mood for his games.

Ranger actually grimaced. "No promises."

"But at least you'll try, right?"

He gave a slight nod.

"And you'll try hard." Marissa pressed.

"Don't push it Mari."

She shrugged before getting up and walking to the door. "You're a big boy Carlos I have faith you'll do the right thing."

"Even if the right thing could get people hurt?" he said before dropping his head back towards the papers in front of him.

"When it comes to us letting people into our world somebody always has to get hurt." Marissa said as she closed the door behind her.


	36. Chapter 36

**Chapter 36**

Joe was waiting for her at the entrance of the TPD when she pulled up and hopped from the black SUV; his cop face was firmly in place.

"Hey." she said as she walked up to him.

"And here I was worried you wouldn't have a ride back." he said sneered as he watched the vehicle drive off.

_Oh boy. _

"Uhm..."

"Save it Carter. Meeting with Targa in five minutes."

And with that he walked off leaving her to get comfortable with the tightness in her chest and the lump in her throat.

Ten minutes later Joe still refused to look in her direction as they sat in Targa's office going over the highlights of the search warrant request. His carriage was stiff, and his face was a stony mask as he asked and answered questions in a monotone voice. Joe Morelli was angry. Very, very angry.

Marissa decided to keep it professional and not let her emotions filter into the meeting. There would be time enough for that. Not like she was looking forward to it though. She asked, answered and suggested scenarios that were brought up, but to her it seemed as though she was floating above her body. Thank God it was routine protocol they were discussing, because anything other than that would have made it quite difficult for her to fully focus. Things went even more downhill after the meeting as Joe practically ran from the room when it was over.

"Hey!" Marissa said as she jogged behind him trying to keep up. "Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Joe stopped abruptly and turned towards her. "I'm not interested in talking right now Agent Carter."

She studied him. "You're angry at me."

"Damn right I'm angry at you." he hissed. "You lied to me."

Heads began to turn and necks craned in their direction. They had officially caused a scene. Great.

"Can we find somewhere private and discuss this?" Marissa asked in a low voice.

"I'm really not..."

"Please." she said giving him an earnest look.

He stared at her for a few seconds. Assessing. Brooding. "Fine. Staircase."

He led the way down the hall and slammed through the staircase entrance. He waited until the door closed behind them before he let loose.

"You went to see him didn't you? You didn't go to the field office because I called there trying to locate you."

He didn't have to name the "_him" _for her to know who he was talking about_. _But that was beside the point.

"Why were you looking for me?"

"Doesn't matter now does it?" he answered sullenly.

The truth was the only choice now.

"Yes, I went to see Carlos." she admitted.

"And you couldn't tell me that?" Joe sat on one of the stairs with his elbows on his knees and his hands clasped in front of him.

"It was a...personal matter."

Something dark flashed over his face. "Did you go over there to fuck him?"

She felt as though he had slapped her.

"What!" she shrieked with wide eyes. "Is that what you think I did?"

He glared at her. "I thought a lot of things. None of them good. So why don't you enlighten me."

"Like I said, it was a personal matter." she said glaring back.

"Like?"

Marissa shifted nervously. "Like...personal. I wish I could tell you more than that but my friendship with Ranger is not something that can be summed up in a neat bundle of words"

Joe made a disgusted sound. "You've got to be fucking kidding me?"

Marissa looked at her shoes.

Joe stared at her with betrayal etched all over his face. "I thought we were partners…friends even."

"We are."

"Do you even know the meaning of the word?" he asked bitterly.

"What the hell kind of a question is that? Of course I do."

"Then you know the kind of trust involved in a partnership. Something happened between us last night, and according to where I come from when a woman let's a man touch her like the way I did to you it means something."

_God, did he have to go there?_ "Look, I don't know what you're expecting me to tell you. But the reality of the situation is that when I leave here tomorrow there's a very high chance that we won't see each other again."

Joe looked like he'd been punched in the gut. "So what? I'm basically a temporary fix to take the edge off what you can't get from Manoso?"

Marissa wanted to scream in frustration. "I didn't mean it like that."

Joe's temper spiked. "Then what the fuck did you mean?"

Marissa felt her irritation bubbling up violently in her. God this was turning out to be a mess. Maybe it was best if she just cut her loses now before the situation got even more out of control.

Getting tangled up with Morelli really wasn't worth all this emotional turmoil. She'd rather be alone rather than spend two more seconds with him in that stairwell.

She squared her shoulders and took a deep breath. "You know what? I think it's best to keep some professional distance between us from now on."

She was surprised her voice sounded so even, as internally she was ready to fall apart.

Joe gave her a look of disbelief. "Professional distance? Are you serious?"

But Marissa was done talking. Done hoping. Done expecting. Her defense mechanisms were in full self-preservation mode, and as she made her way down the stairs she hoped that someday Joe would understand that all she wanted to do was protect him…from her.

Professional distance Joe soon learned meant little or no contact at all. As he leaned against the Command Center truck in the TPD's parking lot watching her go over the warrant with the guys in the Gang Unit, he wondered if he had been too hard on her earlier on.

He'd been angry when he'd found out that she had lied about her whereabouts. More angry than he'd ever gotten with Stephanie in the past when she did her shenanigans. And as he sat at his desk waiting for Marissa to return, he'd tried to keep the nagging thoughts and images of her being with Ranger at bay.

He'd been doing great until he happened to be coming back from outside after going to his SUV for some paperwork. He watched with a giant knot in his stomach as the unmistakable RangeMan standard-issued vehicle pulled into the parking lot and Marissa hopped out of it.

After that he was a body of fury.

And even though she never denied going to see Ranger for some _afternoon delight, _deep within he's known she wasn't that type of woman.

He had wanted her to tell him that Ranger meant nothing to her, and that she wanted to try and work something out with him. But those words never came. Neither did how she felt about him, or if she wanted to try and keep in contact after she left the day after. Hell he would've jumped at the chance to even exchange email addresses. Instead she closed herself off to him and left him standing in the stairwell feeling more annoyed and confused than when he'd first got there.

Now, she stood less than ten feet away looking absolutely gorgeous and confident, with her hair curling around her head like a halo, and her face glowing as she laughed and talked with the other detectives, looking like they'd been buddies since kindergarten. But that was her way. She knew how to bring people out and make them feel comfortable around her, and that fact made him feel a little jealous of the other guys.

It should be him making her laugh and talk like that. It should be him that she'd be coming home with tonight after they'd search the storage company. It should be his name on her lips when he buried himself so deep within her that he'd forget his own name as he gave her a proper goodbye before she left the next day.

Instead there he stood on the outside looking in too scared to go up and talk to her, too macho to push his pride aside and apologize for behaving like such a dick-head, and too pissed off with her for just walking away from him. Okay, he'd admit that he'd been a little dramatic about the whole thing; especially the part about asking if she'd gone to see Ranger in order to have a roll in the hay. But he had to know.

He was not going down the same road as he did with Steph. It was either be with him exclusively, or save the later heartache for someone else. But then again Marissa wasn't Stephanie. In fact, she wasn't like any other woman he'd ever met. She scared him. She was a tough, smart, witty, serious woman who didn't need anyone to protect her. But yet still she exuded an air of vulnerability that told him that she was cautious when it came to personal matters.

He could sense that she hid parts of herself away. It was as though she was scared that if she showed them, people would think of her as a failure, or pass judgment on her choices and lifestyle. She made analytical choices, and if they didn't fit into her experiences or consequences she was quick to dismiss them and find some other solution that did. Most times though, the solutions were to run away like she'd done earlier that afternoon. Her flight game was no joke.

"Okay! Listen up people!" Captain Targa's voice boomed over the parking lot. "We're almost ready to roll out! I need for everyone to gather here for a minute so we can go over some tactical operations!"

Five minutes later all the law enforcement officers stood in a semi-circle. and the SAC of the Newark Office, Derek Scarpella, were the main focus in the group. All eyes were on them.

Joe tried not to look over to where Marissa stood with the members of the Gang Unit, but she was standing just off to the side of where Targa and Scarpella were standing so he had no choice. She however, kept her gaze on the two men in front of her; her face was a mask of concentration. Assignments were handed out, as well as a description of the Zamochit's gang leader and then the team dispersed.

As Marissa was walking back to her car she was stopped by Scarpella's voice. "Agent Carter, you're riding with Detective Morelli."

Shit.

She sat stiffly on the passenger side of the SUV staring trance-like out the window

Joe glanced at her for what felt like the hundredth time. Her face was unreadable, and the only time she spoke was when her phone rang. It had been a brief conversation.

"_Carter."_

Pause.

"_Yes. Tomorrow._

Pause.

"_After lunch is fine."_

Pause.

"_Yes I read the case file and the emails."_

Long pause.

"_Okay. See you then."_

Then she hung up and went back to staring out the window.

What was going on in her head? Joe wondered to himself. She looked so calm and animated. And why wasn't she talking…to him?

"Are you nervous?' he asked attempting to break the quiet in the cab.

"Not yet." she answered robotically. Her eyes never left the scene outside the window.

"Do you need anything before we get there? I could stop off if..."

"No. I'm fine." she said hastily.

Okay.

He cleared his throat nervously. "Look, about early on..."

"Can you not talk? Please. I just want to get this done and over with."

"Carter don't you think we should talk about what happened?"

"No. Nothing to talk about."

He kept on. "I was a jerk earlier on and..."

"Joe, please." she whispered fiercely as her gaze dropped to her lap. "I can't do this with you right now."

"Then when?"

He saw her swallow hard before she answered. "I don't know."

"Before you leave tomorrow?" he pressed.

She grimaced and it was then that he knew.

"You were going to leave and never talk to me again, weren't you?" he asked as a hopeless feeling gripped his stomach.

She remained silent.

"Is that how you deal with all your relationships? You shut down and escape into yourself instead of confronting the issues and working through them."

She didn't even blink.

"God dammit Carter!" he exploded as he slapped the steering wheel in anger. "I'm trying here!"

"Trying to do what exactly?" She finally spoke. That was a good sign.

"To apologize."

"Well you suck at it. I always thought an apology was an expression of regret, roughly cause by a dislike of one's own actions in the past. But so far all I've heard you direct at me are accusations and innuendo."

"What! I've done no such thing."

"Yes you did!" she shot back. "And correct me if I'm wrong but according to social standards I am by no means required to accept your half-assed apology."

"Half-assed? Does your ego ever take a day off?"

"I don't have an ego, unlike you."

"What?" he shot her a chagrined look.

"Ever since I've gotten here you've been on some macho bullshit, dick-measuring competition when it comes to my relationship with Carlos." she said as she glared at him. "It is what it is, so let it go already."

"I don't care about your relationship," the word came out bitterly "…with Manoso. What I have a problem with was the fact that you lied to me in order to go see him."

"We already had this conversation." she gritted out.

"And all it served to do was to give you an excuse to walk away."

"I left because there was nothing else to say. I'm not one to stick around when it's clear that all avenues have been exhausted."

"I've noticed." he said curtly glancing at her.

Marissa was getting severely frustrated with their argument. Why was he being so pig-headed? Why couldn't he have just kept his mouth shut and just drive the way Carlos did?

_Because he's not Carlos_, a voice said in her head. _He's kind, sexy, protective, chivalrous Joseph Morelli_. The _kind of guy you think you don't deserve._

_Shut up!_ She told the voice.

Great. Now she was having conversations with herself. A very clear sign that she had officially gone off the deep end. Maybe when she got back to New York she'll use up some of the mountain of vacation time she'd been accumulating over the years. God knows she needed it.

"You know what?" she said to Joe. "I'm gonna shut up now. Because lately it seems as though every time I open my mouth the Universe conspires against me and I end up looking like a bitch."

Joe pursed his lips together. Why did she always have to clam up just when their discussions...okay arguments, were getting somewhere? It irked him to no end.

"You don't look like a bitch. Look, all I'm saying is that I would appreciate a little more open communication between us, that's all."

"And I'm telling you that's not going to happen."

"Why not?"

She made an exasperated sound. Would it kill him to stop pressing and jumping all over her already frazzled nerves?

"Okay fine." Joe said sensing her deteriorating mood. "I'll promise to not bring this up for the rest of the night only if you promise that we're going to work out this..._thing_ between us before you leave tomorrow."

"That's blackmail!" Marissa exclaimed.

"That's my offer." he said with a shrug. "If not I could go on talking until we get there."

He made a show at looking at his watch. "And that's going to be about half an hour of me asking you some very aggravating and personal questions."

Marissa couldn't believe this. Maybe she should take out her gun and shoot him in the leg. She would much rather deal with the paperwork, the Internal Affairs and Office of Professional Responsibility regarding the shooting rather than working anything out with Joe.

Why couldn't he just let it go? Just let it go and move on. It would be the simple, uncomplicated route to take. Everyone just walks away and chalk up the experience to _'that thing that happened'. Ugh!_

"Well?" Joe asked breaking into her thoughts.

"I'm thinking." she said through clenched teeth.

"You seriously have to think about this?" he asked incredulously.

"I'm not about to agree to something I know justifiably well that I won't be able to commit to just because it would satisfy some small part of your manhood."

"Hey! My manhood is not small!" Joe said with a scowl.

"I was talking about your ego not your penis." Marissa muttered shaking her head.

"Same thing."


	37. Chapter 37

**Chapter 37**

One issue in dealing with modern criminal gangs is that their operations are diversified. The heat-shielding you hope is hiding a human-smuggling operation could be hiding radio emissions from software-pirating computers. When Marissa and The TPD search team showed up at the storage company and handed the search warrant at the stunned manager she was sure she was going to find evidence linking Velova to the eviscerated bodies. Instead what she found was a computer geek's wet dream.

Out of the twenty units they searched at the storage units, fifteen were crammed wall to wall with CPUs, monitors and cases of cd spindles. It was only when Joe turned on one of the computers, and they all stood starting at a movie that was supposed to be opening two weeks later that she then put two and two together.

"Looks like we hit the jackpot." Phil Pancheck said as he walked into the unit where Joe and Marissa were documenting all the illegal items in Evidence Log books. It was no small task either as there were at least fifty boxes of bootleg movies in that one unit.

"Not the jackpot I was hoping for." Marissa muttered as she wrote the title of a DVD down in her book. "This doesn't help my case whatsoever."

"You can't be sure of that." Joe chimed in. "Velova has his hands in all kinds of dirty pots. Maybe this is just the beginning of the end of your case."

Marissa shot him an indignant look. "Must you always be the glass-is-always-half-full type of guy?"

He shrugged. "In my line of work it's the only way to be if you don't want to be popping Prozac for the rest of your life."

Well then. Guess it was too late for her.

"Good to know." she said giving him a tight smile before walking over to another box labeled 'Green Hornet.'

Joe followed her.

"You know, it may take quite a while to catalog all of this evidence. Maybe you should consider putting in for an extension to stay here in Trenton."

Hell no, Marissa thought.

Fat chance that was ever going to happen. As soon as she was done filling out her paperwork and arranging for the boxes to be sent to the Evidence room she was getting out of Torturous Trenton. What a week. She'd experienced less active and stressful things at Puerto Rican Day parades. No way was she coming back to Trenton unless by subpoena. Joe would be disappointed, but he was mature enough that he would get over it after a day or two. Hopefully.

_But you promised to talk to him_, a voice said in her head.

_I didn't promise. I said I'd see him in the Task Room after the briefing with Targa and Scarpella. Okay, so maybe he didn't know that that briefing was only for the Tactical and administrative staff. But he would get the gist when he walked in and didn't see me there. By then I'll be crossing over state lines and on my way for a bagel and coffee and a stress-free personal life._

_You are a horrible woman for misleading the man like that_, the voice chastised.

_I can live with that. Besides I've been called much worse things._

"Hey Morelli! Heard this was all your doing. Must be nice to get back on Targa's good side, huh?" Pancheck said as he scoped out a DVD cover.

Joe shot him a weary look. He was in no mood to verbally spar with the TPD's biggest asshole, so he just nodded and went back to his cataloging.

"So Boy Wonder enlighten us on how this ring operated, seeing as how you're now the expert on Russian mob activities?" Pancheck kept on.

Marissa watched as a muscle in Joe's jaw began to work overtime and his lips morphed into a thin hard line. Uh oh. Intervention time.

"It's quite a scheme actually." Marissa interjected quickly. "One that involves the theft of millions of dollars."

Joe shot her a look of gratitude.

She continued. "You see movie backers invest large up-front investments in the hopes of doubling their money when the movie does well at the box office. Guys like Velova see this as an opportunity to make money too by surreptitiously filming the movie and illegally distributing it."

"They get people known as 'cammers' to use digital cameras to record first-run movies off theater screens. Then they convert the video into master DVDs and sell those to 'wholesalers'. The wholesalers then make copies of the masters and package them to look like high quality DVDs and sell them to retailers. The retailers then make more copies of the DVDs and sell them out of storefronts."

"And these are sold nationally?" Pancheck asked.

"Not a lot, as most people in the US are aware of the consequences of intellectual piracy. But most of the sales are done in Hong Kong, Malaysia, Pakistan and Singapore. Far away from the jurisdiction of the FBI."

"Now go away Pancheck." Joe growled as he opened a box and dug through the contents.

Phil made a _tsk, tsk _sound. "Whatever happened to the brotherhood, man? You would think that you didn't like me or something. But no worries. I get that you want to spend time alone with Agent Carter here. Play on playa."

Phil gave Joe two thumbs up and a wink before Joe lunged at him. But Marissa anticipating the severity of Joe's irritation shot an arm out held a firm grip on his shoulder. "Later Morelli." she muttered.

Joe stilled, but shot Pancheck a look of disdain-his intent clearly displayed for all to see.

Pancheck chuckled and walked out the unit.

Two hours later as they were loading the confiscated goods into their evidence vans the lights from an incoming car almost blinded Marissa. Then the lights dimmed suddenly and she caught a glimpse of a glimmer of gold coming from the driver's side of the car. Focusing on the driver made out a gold disc hanging from the occupant's neck. Vasya. Galvanized into action upon recognition she drew her gun and aimed it steadily at the vehicle.

"FBI! Get out of the vehicle with your hands up!"

She watched as Vasya's eyes widened in surprise, then dread slammed into Marissa as she saw him jerkily shift the gears of the car and reversed, tires screeching, out of the parking lot. Shit! He was getting away!

Not giving a second thought to her actions she fired off a shot, aiming for the front tires, and watched with satisfaction as the rubber exploded and wobbled. Her contentment was short-lived though as Vasya, who didn't even slow down, kept on driving.

He executed a savage u-turn outside of the parking lot gate, causing the rim on the deflated tire to fly off and go rolling off to the side. The sound of a gunshot pierced the air and one of Vasya's back passenger windows shattered. Marissa turned around to see who the shooter was and saw Joe with his gun drawn and a look of determination on his face. More cops joined in the fray but Vasya's car kept on going.

And just when Marissa was sure they would have to embark on a high speed chase, a TPD squad car slammed into the driver's side of his car, rendering it useless. But one should never underestimate the determination of a criminal's flight game. And this was proven true when Vasya scrambled out the passenger side window of his mangled car and took off running.

A harsh growl erupted from behind her, and she felt a rush of air as Joe ran past her intent on catching the fleeing man.

Three alleyways and a chain link fence later, Joe found himself rolling around on the sidewalk behind a Shop Rite supermarket trying not to become a law enforcement statistic. Vasya's hands curled around Joe's neck at the same moment Joe's patience ran out. Widening his stance for leverage, Joe managed to lean forward a bit, giving him just enough room to ram his elbow into Vasya's stomach.

His attacker made an _"ooff"_ sound and his grip on Joe's neck slackened. Taking advantage of the moment, Joe twisted out of Vasya's grasp and whirled around with his fists flying. Two punches later the medallion-wearing Russian dropped heavily to the ground just as Joe's back up arrived. Carl Costanza was the first one to reach him.

"Damn Morelli, you think you could've left him a little bit conscious so we could've read him his rights?" Carl said as he snapped his cuffs on a clearly knocked-the-fuck-out Vasya.

"It was on my checklist Costanza, but I seemed to have misplaced it when Mr. Kremlin here tried to rip my head off." Joe replied as he tried to get his breathing under control.

"Ah, assaulting an officer of the law. That's always something the boys at the precinct like to hear. Big Dog has a pair of brass knuckles he wanted to try out. Perfect opportunity." Carl said as he hauled Vasya up with the help of two other officers. "Thanks Morelli."

"Don't mention it. Just tell Big Dog to get a groin hit in for me."

Back at the precinct, at his desk, Joe downed two Aleves as he tried to alleviate the throbbing pain in his head. What a fucking day, he thought as he laid his head on his hands and closed his eyes. He could hear Marissa talking with Det. Heyman behind him about some random case that at the moment he had no interest in. Then the talking stopped. He lifted his head slowly and turned around just in time to see Marissa pick up the receiver of a desk phone.

"Calling Ranger?" he asked as his mouth drew into a tight line.

She glared at him. "No. I was going to call Bryan and tell him what he missed tonight."

"Can't it wait until morning?"

There was an underlying tone to his question; as though he was testing her to catch her in a lie.

She put the receiver down.

"Will you be here tomorrow for the debriefing?" he asked as he watched her intently.

Marissa shrugged. "Not my call. Technically I don't have to be."

"So this is it? This right here," he moved his hand back and forth between them, "is all we have right now."

Well when he put it like that...

"Morelli, look..."

He held up a hand. "Let's not talk about this now, alright? I think I speak for the both of us when I say that I'm exhausted and just want this night to be over and done with."

She nodded jerkily, keeping her eyes on the ground. She couldn't look at him for fear that he would see the emotions she was trying valiantly to hide.

"So, uhm, do you need me to drop you off anywhere in particular?" he asked in a low, tight voice. "I'm almost done filling out the paperwork on this mess."

Only if he wanted to drop her off the face of the Earth. How did she get to this junction in her life? This was supposed to have been an easy assignment. Come to New Jersey and collect info. Go back to New York with said info. Nowhere in that equation was there anything about meeting

Joe Morelli and his terrifyingly sexy self, and him accepting the fact that she had a bad case of emotional retardation when it came to relationships. Damn the Universe!

"Uhm. No. Detective Heyman offered to drive me over to the field office."

"Heyman?" He looked across the tops the desks in the bull pen and stared at the man in question who was talking to Captain Targa.

Okay, so she was lying. But Marissa just knew that she couldn't take spending a second more in Joe's company. It was hurting way too much just to have this conversation with him. She felt her heart constrict, as the knowledge that this would be the last time she would be talking to him enveloped her.

Emotion as strong as this wasn't something she was comfortable with; and as was her way of dealing with all things outside of her emotional realm, she shut down and immersed herself in some form of distraction. Sometimes she did it by drinking or working long past when she should be. Other times it was sleeping, and a few random times it was with sex. Out here in Trenton she knew there would be no drinking or sleeping. Sex was totally out of the question...especially with her sexual partner options. So that left work.

She squared her shoulders. "I think this is where I tell you goodnight Morelli."

"Really? Are you sure it's not goodbye?" he bit out clearly pissed off.

She gave him a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes. "It is what it is."

His face hardened. "You know people who use that line only use it when they're trying to let someone down easily."

"Joe I'm not…."

"I'm sure it comes easy to you especially when you're dealing with people not in your professional league of superheroes."

The sharp bite of the accusation caught Marissa with full force. "What does that mean?"

"It means sweetheart that just because we don't have little badges that say FBI, or drive around in expensive black cars doesn't mean that we're less than in anyway."

"I never said that!" she exploded.

"Actions baby. Actions." he spat back.

"I have never treated you like you were beneath me Morelli. But did it ever occur to you that I was doing you a favor by keeping you out of the loop? No. I didn't think so. You had to be such...a man about everything. And why are you always looking at me like that? Stop it! And...and stop with all the sexy touching and caring and...and bullshit. You push, and push, and push and I swear to God Morelli if you keep on pushing I'm gonna kick your ass!"

She was talking way too fast for Joe to make sense of what she was rambling on about. But clearly she was angry. She let out a frustrated growl and stomped off to where Det. Heyman was standing. She said a few words to him, and Heyman looked over at Joe and shot him a sympathetic look.

Joe watched as Heyman led her to the exit and tried to tamp down the overwhelming sensation of regret and discontentment. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to go after her and show her exactly how he felt, but he remain rooted in his chair as the pain in his head morphed into a dull ache that spread throughout his body. And as the door closed behind the couple he found himself unable to breathe, as the reality sank in that the only woman who'd ever truly challenged him was about to walk out of his life forever.


	38. Chapter 38

**Chapter 38**

**Friday 5:34am**

Never let it be said that Marissa Rachel Carter wasn't anal when it came to doing her job. From the minute she got to the Newark Field Office a little past 1am she had been writing, typing, faxing, photocopying, emailing and coffee-drinking; all to get to where she was at that very moment. Packing.

Her eyes burned from lack of sleep, her head felt as though it was floating above her body and her joints were stiff. It was over. Not the case, but the unnerving time she had spent here in Trenton.

She was going home. Back to New York. Back to her life. Back to where she belonged. Back there there was no Joe Morelli, no Carlos Manoso, no weird feelings, no sexual tension and no unexplained emotions she couldn't handle. The case was far from over, but Vasya had given Detective Heyman some useful information that she was going to follow up on when she got back to her office. It seemed as though the leader of the Zamochit gang was hiding out somewhere in Rochester, New York. They had gotten a name and a description, and Marissa presumed that by the next week they would be bringing the gang leader in for questioning.

She threw the last of her things into the medium sized suitcase and did a quick scan of the room to make sure that nothing was forgotten. She looked at her watch. The rental car company was going to be dropping the car she had reserved to drive back to New York within a few minutes. Grabbing her suitcase off the bed she made her way down to the lobby.

"Good morning." she said to the cheery looking male desk clerk. "Room 205 checking out." she placed the card key on the counter.

The clerk nodded. "Will there be anything else we can assist you with before you leave?"

"Is the coffee fresh?"

"I already have coffee for you." a voice said behind her.

Great. Just when she thought she was getting out of there without incident he shows up.

"What do you want Carlos?" she asked wearily as she turned to face him.

"You didn't think you were going to drive back to New York on your own were you?" he asked in a matter-of-factly tone.

"Of course I was. My rental should be here," she looked at her watch, "in three minutes."

"You sure about that?" he asked arching a perfectly curved black eyebrow at her as his eyes roamed over her face taking in the bags underneath her eyes.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "What did you do?"

"Nothing." he said innocently with a shrug. "But Tank arranged for Cal to drive you back."

"That wasn't..."

"Mari you're exhausted and you look like hell. You're in no condition to be on the Turnpike."

She rolled her eyes dramatically. "Please go away."

"Not going to happen. Cal is waiting in the parking lot."

She could tell by his tone that it was no use arguing. "My rental isn't coming is it?"

Ranger just stared at her.

"Just in case I haven't told you this in a while, I want you to know that I really, really hate you."

He gave her a tight smile. "I love when you try to give compliments. Let's go."

He grabbed her suitcase in one hand, and held onto her arm with the other as he pulled her towards the exit.

"Stop manhandling me." she said as she tried to get her arm free.

"You and I both know what happens when I manhandle...and this isn't it." Ranger said.

This was true. For one thing she still had her clothes on; which may or may not have been a good thing.

He opened the back passenger door for her and she greeted Cal as she slid into the warm plush leather interior. He then went around to the trunk to deposit her suitcase. She was expecting him to stand off to the side and wave to her as the vehicle pulled off, but to her consternation he climbed in next to her.

"Is Cal dropping you off at RangeMan?" Marissa asked as she buckled her seatbelt.

"Yeah, right after we drop you off at your house."

Her eyes widened. He couldn't be serious? Damn.

Ranger pulled her to him and dropped a kiss on her forehead. "Go to sleep. I'll wake you when we get there."

Marissa studied him even as she melted into his warmth and solidity. He was such a complicated man, yet he yearned for the simple things in life. Things that were always just out of his reach because of the promises he had made to his government and the actions of his lifestyle.

No one really knew who the real Carlos Manoso was, and she was sure at times he didn't either. But he was her friend. He never questioned her actions, motives or words. They didn't have an agenda with each other, just one for each other. They didn't have to bury their unconventional views of the world to make themselves seem normal, and there were never any "weird" moments between them.

But even as she reveled in their connectivity, there was a hole that was slowly growing bigger and bigger within her from the moment she walked away from Joe at the precinct. She tamped down the wave of emotion that rose up within her. No. She was not going to think about him. She'd promised herself that. No what ifs.

Ranger turned and looked at her. "You miss him."

"Who?"

"Morelli."

Marissa stared out the window "Yes."

She'd never lied to Ranger. She learned a long time ago it was a wasted effort. "A little bit too much...but you didn't hear that from me"

"Does he know?"

Marissa snorted. "God no."

Ranger was silent for a long while. Then, "Did you sleep with him?"

"No."

He let out a breath. "But you wanted too?"

Was he relieved?

"What I want and what's best for me are two entirely different things Carlos."

"Wrong answer."

"Seeing as I'm heading back to New York and leaving my Trenton memories behind, good and bad, I'd say it was the right answer." she challenged.

"Ever the optimist." Ranger said with a smirk. "But still, I think you're making a mistake about Morelli."

She pulled away from him and sat up. "That's a matter of opinion."

"He can make you happy. He's a good man."

"And you're not?" she asked pointedly.

He stared at her. "You and I both know the limitations of my emotions."

"As I recalled you put those limitations in place because you're afraid that you'd fall hard for a certain brunette."

"Mari..." his tone held a warning.

"Tell me I'm wrong?" she challenged.

He smiled and pulled her back into him. "Get some rest. You're beginning to get delirious from lack of sleep."

They were silent for a while; just the sound of the tires on the road and the low classical music coming from the speakers. Marissa closed her eyes and snuggled into Ranger's warmth. His arms wound themselves automatically around her, and he dropped a kiss on her hair. Minutes passed by and her breathing pattern slowed down. By all appearances she looked like she was sleeping, but Ranger knew her mind was still racing.

"What are you thinking about?" he muttered.

"How destructive we are when it comes to our personal lives." she mumbled, eyes still closed.

"It's called self-preservation."

"It's called bullshit." she said pushing herself off of his comforting warmth and staring at him with bloodshot eyes. "I could've slept with him. I wanted to sleep with him."

"But?"

Her gaze dropped from his and she bit down on her lower lip. "But...but I...I knew he deserved better."

Ranger let out a frustrated sigh. "Mari, there're no one better than you."

She pursed her lips at him. "You're just saying that so you can have sex with me again."

"It's not about the sex. We could've done that days ago if that was the case." he said quietly.

This got her attention. "Then what?"

His gaze roamed across her face. "You have a way of drawing people to you. Your honesty and genuine interest in the well-being of others are what make you such a great friend."

She stared at him with a frown. "Okay. Who are you?"

He stared back at her.

"Carlos is never this talkative. And he doesn't use words like genuine and well-being."

He threw his head back and laughed; a very rare occurrence it seemed these days. He pulled her back into him and shifted so that he could stretch his legs out along the seat and cocoon her between them. "Get some rest. When you wake up everything will still be waiting for you to agonize over."

"I don't agonize." she protested even as she adjusted her body to mold into his form. "I analyze. Totally different things."

"Great. Now shut up and sleep."

"You're lucky I'm too tired to bust you upside the head for your rudeness." she said as her eyes closed.

"I'm sure you'll make up for that when you wake up." Ranger said with a smile.

**Two weeks later...**

"No!"

"Carter you're being totally irrational right now." her partner Bryan said as they walked back to their office after getting their assignment from the Special Agent in Charge.

She stopped walking. "Irrational? Irrational? You think I'm being irrational after I told you what happened when I was there."

He shoved his hands in his pockets. "That's a rhetorical question, right?"

"I'm not going." Marissa said as she continued down the hallway. "No fucking way."

Bryan followed close behind, trying to reason with her. "You're going to disregard a direct order from your superior? I don't think so. This is not like you."

"Well, I've changed. I march to a different beat now."

"Would that be the beat of the unemployment line?"

She glared at him. "Can't you go? You know, without me."

He looked at her as if she'd just told him to jump off the Empire State Building. "No."

She let out a frustrated growl as they entered their shared office. Flopping down in her chair dejectedly Marissa wondered if God was punishing her for sins she'd never confessed to.

Bryan sat down across from her. "Look, you're not even going to be working with the guy. You'll be at the Field Office. You might never even see each other."

She shot him an incredulous look. "Are you kidding me? Obviously you don't know Joe Morelli like I do."

"Obviously, since he never had his tongue in my mouth." Bryan said with a chuckle.

"Shut. It. Up." Marissa hissed. "I don't care what Burger says, I'm not going."

"You're going to get written up for insubordination if you do. Not a good thing to have on one's employment record in this economy. But on the bright side Ranger would be there."

"Carlos is on an assignment." she informed him.

"Since when?"

"Since five days ago." she explained putting on her computer. "He called from the airport."

"What was the directive?"

"He didn't say. But more than likely it came from the NSA. Which means..."

"He's buried deep until they pull him out." Bryan finished for her.

She huffed out a sigh. "Yeah."

He studied her for a minute as she typed in her password and waited for all her icons to load and the security software to kick in.

"You miss him don't you?" he asked.

"Who? Carlos?" she asked innocently.

"Good Lord woman, keep up. Morelli. You miss Morelli."

She ignored him.

"Has he called you?"

"Maybe."

"How many times?"

"A few."

"Did you talk to him?"

"Nope."

"Why not?"

She glared at him. "What's with the questions Anderson?"

"I'm just trying to understand why you're pushing the guy away. He seems like a great guy."

"Now you're beginning to sound like Carlos."

"Who in a weird serial killer kind of way is a very intuitive man."

"Watch it. That's my friend you're talking about there."

"And I'm your partner. The one who knows all your dirty secrets and your real weight. The one who knows how you like your coffee and your favorite takeout restaurant. The one who knows that since you came back from Trenton you've been in a foul mood and brooding over a certain TPD detective."

She made a face at him. "I don't brood. And for your information what happened between Morelli and I was nothing."

"He seems to think otherwise."

"He's just disappointed that he didn't get to sleep with me. I'm sure if we did what happened between us would be water under the bridge."

Bryan shot her a dubious look. "Okay, so let me see if I'm getting this straight. You're saying that if Morelli had had sex with you he wouldn't want to have anything to do with you right now because he got his itch scratched?"

"Bingo!" Marissa exclaimed slapping her hand down on the desk. "See? I knew you were my partner for a reason."

"That's the biggest pile of bullshit I've ever heard." Bryan said as he shook his head. "You seriously believe that?"

Marissa stared at him. "Of course I believe that. Men like Morelli have alpha male tendencies that when not fully satisfied manifests itself into emotions of determination, that can only be satisfied when the proposed subject of the challenge has been properly mitigated. And yes, I'm still seeing Dr. Powell on Thursdays."

"Uh huh." Bryan said; clearly not understand what the hell she'd just said. "Have you talked to your shrink about Morelli?"

Her brow creased. "What for?"

"You can't be serious?" Bryan scoffed. "It's obviously you have unresolved feelings for the man."

"Yeah. Feelings of irritation and anxiety. I even threatened to kick his ass if he kept on pushing me. And do you know what he had the gall to say to me?"

She didn't wait for him to respond. "He said that I was an agency snob, and that anyone who didn't have as high as a security clearance as mine I looked down upon. I mean, is he fucking serious?"

"You do look down on anyone that's not a member of the Alphabet teams." Bryan pointed out stoically.

"What!"

"Remember when we were doing that joint op in Chinatown a few months ago and you reprimanded one of the NYPD detectives for obscuring the crime scene because he was drinking a cup of coffee?"

Marissa rolled her eyes. "Well he was."

"The poor man was at least a hundred feet from the scene Carter."

"It was unprofessional."

"It was thirty-two degrees."

"Whatever. You didn't see any of us drinking any coffee, did you?" she argued.

Bryan threw his hands up. "I give up."

To everyone else she was behaving normal, but as her partner he'd notice subtle changes in her personality and demeanor. Since she'd gotten back from Trenton she'd been distracted and irritable, and quite a few times she'd seem lost in a haze of unhappiness. Whatever happened between her and Morelli had left some bruising on her soul that not even time could readily fix.

The Trenton detective had gotten to her in a way few people ever did. He'd done the unthinkable and wormed her way into her heart. And just like how the body deals with a virus that has infected it, Marissa was trying to build up her defenses against the emotions the Trenton detective had spawned within her.

She had to go back to Trenton. She needed to go back to Trenton. But was he going to make her see that? He couldn't ask Ranger for help, as he was out of the country. He couldn't ask Tank for help because he didn't know the man all that well, or felt comfortable enough to ask him for such a favor. So the next best thing was to talk to her psychiatrist.

Dr. Myron Powell was the only one who seemed to be able to get his partner to tap into her unexpressed feelings and to make sense of them. Their weekly sessions offered Marissa a way to come out of her shell and say what she felt without the consequences her words might have to the people around her.

The only other people she was able to do that with was with him and Ranger...and quite possible he suspected Morelli. But for reasons unknown to him she was resisting Morelli very forcefully. And when SAC Michael Burger had told her about her assignment to work as the Agent in Charge of the Zamochit case out of the Newark Field office, Bryan was sure he had seen a small spark of fear flash in her eyes.

What was she afraid of so badly that she wanted to disregard a supervisory directive? Whatever it was, there was no doubt in Bryan's mind that it centered around one Joseph Anthony Morelli.


	39. Chapter 39

**Chapter 39**

Dread is a complex emotion. Part fear, part disappointment, with a healthy dose of helplessness thrown in. It makes for a very uncomfortable emotion, especially when it lodges itself in one's throat. Marissa was trying to heroically appear calm as she watched the man, who had been obsessively on her mind for the past two months, ambled towards her with his signature strong, sexy gait in the parking lot of the Tasty Pastry.

Damn. How she'd missed that walk and the confident way he carried himself. She'd missed him; which was ironic since she had been determined to forget him at all costs.

This was all her psychiatrist's fault. Clearly the man didn't get the gist of the whole doctor-patient camaraderie she had been trying to explain to him a few weeks ago. She'd gone to her weekly Thursday session fully expecting him to have the letter she had asked him for regarding her fragile mental state as an excuse for her not to be assigned to the Newark Field office. But clearly some form of miscommunication had taken place, because at the end of her session he had given her a letter of recommendation to go to Trenton.

"Uhm, I think there has been some kind of a mistake." Marissa said as she eyed the letter with a frown. "This says that you're recommending me to go to Trenton, as it will help in the progression of my psychological development."

"That's correct." Dr. Powell said as he scribbled notes on a pad in his lap; his grey head bent in concentration.

"But that's not what we talked about." she pointed out.

"Yes I know." Dr. Powell said as he gave her a fleeting glance before resuming his writing. "It seems Agent Carter that you've grown accustomed to people doing what you say and when you say it, because it gives you some sort of control over the reality of your life."

"Excuse me?"

He studied her through his wire-framed glasses. "I've found no evidence of that."

Marissa's eyebrows shot up. "Say what now?"

Dr. Powell nodded. "What I did find however was your innate desire to devalue the emotional consequences that resulted from time being spent in Trenton. According to the report from the Operations Deployment Office you were assigned a partner by the name of Detective Joseph Morelli."

"I don't see what this has to do with anything." Marissa said indignantly. "This has nothing to do with Jo...Detective Morelli."

Dr. Powell wasn't convinced though. "I beg to differ Agent Carter. You see for you to be in a partnership, given your emotional constraints, you need to establish some type of bond with that person. Trust, respect, virility and social-adaptiveness play an important part in your decision to cultivate a strong, functional partnership."

What?

"Wait, did you say virility? What does that have to do with partnership?" she asked frowning at him.

Dr. Powell cleared his throat. "You've never had a female partner since you started with the Bureau. You're use to the alpha male/alpha female dynamic that make up, what in your mind objectifies a strong partnership."

"I'm an alpha female?" News to her.

"To the limit. It's not surprising given your line of work. However, the point I'm trying to make pertaining to Detective Morelli was that according to the ODO you signed off on your report five days after Detective Morelli did. This I find surprising since you're always an advocate for tying up all the strings regarding your investigations as soon as the case report is completed."

Oh.

"Uhm, well I kind of left in a hurry."

"Why?"

Marissa cleared her throat nervously. "Well, uhm, Detective Morelli and I had a disagreement earlier on that day, and in order not to aggravate the situation further I finished up what I had to do then came back to New York."

"What caused the disagreement? Was it work related?"

_Jesus!_ Marissa thought. _What is with all the questions? Wasn't her time up already?_

"No it wasn't work related." she answered stiffly.

"Personal then?"

"Maybe."

Dr. Powell shot her a pointed look. "Agent Carter didn't we agree that once we are in this room there are no such things as walls or secrets?"

"We did?" she asked with feigned innocence.

"Yes we did."

She gave him a tight smile. "Okay. Well, uhm, yes, it may have been personal. We had a fight...argument."

"About?"

"Nothing that was my fault that's for sure."

"Agent Carter, please just answer the question truthfully."

"Fine." She huffed out a sigh. "We argued about him pushing my boundaries."

"Which were?"

"Nothing I want to discuss with you right now." she said in annoyance. She didn't like being prodded like this. It took her way out of her comfort zone. "What I want to talk about however is why you're recommending me to go to Trenton."

"Based on your skills as an agent and your knowledge of the case, I endorsed the SAC's directive for you to return to Trenton as you would be a highly valued asset in the operation."

Marissa rolled her eyes. "So basically you're telling me to do as I'm told."

"Yes."

"But I don't think I'm re..."

"Agent Carter this is not up for discussion. I sent the original approval letter to SAC Burger already. It's done."

She didn't like his tone.

"You're not a very good psychologist." Marissa huffed. "I'm telling you that if I go back to Trenton my mental state is going to be worse than when I first started coming to see you."

She hated having to resort to such petty tactics, but hoped that it would get him to reconsider his decision.

"This is why I've arranged for you to see Dr. Andrew Paisley."

"Dr. Paisley? That's Carlos' psychologist. He deals with post-traumatic stress and psychosomatic illnesses. Both of which I don't have any of."

"I beg to differ. You told me since you came back from Trenton you've been suffering insomnia, irritability and lack of an appetite."

"Yes, but all those things are not related to what you think." she blurted out.

The insomnia was from her mind processing the memories, conversations and thoughts on Joe, and the irritability and lack of appetite was from her wondering and analyzing if she'd made the right decision by cutting Joe off from her life.

"Then what are they related to?" Dr. Powell asked knowingly.

Damn. She knew when her back was against the wall.

"PMS." she answered lamely.

Dr. Powell shook his head. "I've sent a copy of your file to Dr. Paisley's office. You'll still have the regular Thursday appointment."

Marissa sat in the chair feeling as though the whole world had turned against her. Was it too late to put in for some vacation time? Or maybe she could throw herself down some stairs and break her foot. No, wait. With the luck she'd been having lately, she was sure she would break her neck instead. But then again, maybe death wouldn't be so bad compared to the hell she was going through right then.

But now she was rethinking the whole hell thing, because presently she was standing in the Ninth Circle of it known as the Tasty Pastry parking lot. Her appetite for donuts was long gone and replaced instead by a heavy feeling of nausea. Her flight impulse was strong, but her pride rooted her to where she stood next to her car.

He stopped a few feet away from her. Watching. Evaluating. Thinking. Judging. She couldn't really blame him as she was doing the same thing. It had been almost two months since they had seen each other.

She'd been in Trenton for a week and a half, settling in her new office and apartment. Her job didn't require her to work with the TPD as she was there strictly to gather evidence, and oversee the surveillance of the Zamochit gang. Her assignment was given a timeline of between three to six months, and she'd been hoping that she would've been able to stay incognito during that time. But now she knew that she had been wrong. Nothing stayed a secret in Trenton.

He spoke first. "Heard you were back."

Her eyes flickered everywhere; avoiding him at all costs. "Uhm, yeah. I'm back...for a while."

"Heard your partner is here too." He shoved his hands in his pockets. Joe felt torn. On the one hand he was excited to see her, but yet unbelievably distressed by the fact that they were now acting like strangers.

"Yeah, Bryan's here. Working with me."

He nodded. "Yeah, well, he's your partner after all."

_So were you_, she thought sadly.

She began to feel overwhelmed by his presence. She had to leave.

"Well, I've got stuff...to do...so..." She remotely opened the car door and turned to get in.

"Wait!" His arm shot out and gripped onto her jacket covered elbow.

She froze. Her body stiffened as all her senses went on high alert. She looked at his hand, and Joe was almost sure she was considering breaking it if he didn't remove it.

"Friends?" he muttered as he shoved his hands back in the pockets of his jeans.

She hesitated, turning to look at him. Was he serious?

He was struggling, she felt it. Joe wasn't like her. When he made an emotional connection with someone, he maintained it. He didn't back away from it.

She nodded firmly. "Sure." Her voice was steady and calm, but her eyes told a different story. They were shining brightly, and Joe wondered what was racing through her mind at the moment.

"It seems only logical." she went on. "Clearly a relationship of any other kind would complicate our jobs."

He nodded in agreement. "Yes."

"Great."

"I'm glad we... agree," he said quietly.

"Yeah, me too." she said weakly.

"So...friends." It was not phrased as a question, but rather as an affirmation.

Nodding she held out her hand in a friendly gesture. "Of course."

Taking her hand and studying it for a second, he tugged on it and pulled her into a hug. The donut bag and her keys almost dropped from her hands. His smell whirled around her and she sagged into his warmth. His scent was reassuring, and she wished that she could bottle it and keep it with her to use whenever she needed comforting. How could such a thing begin to feel so natural in mere minutes of seeing him again?

Joe didn't want to let go of her. It was taking every ounce of his willpower to pull back from her.

"I'm sorry," she whispered suddenly, her face tucked into his neck, her voice muffled.

"For what?" he murmured, tightening an arm around her waist.

She seemed hesitant. "For leaving without talking to you and for not taking your phone calls."

He rubbed slow circles on her back. "I was expecting it. Look, I'm sorry I pushed you. I just...I just got overwhelmed at the time."

She didn't lift her head, but he felt her nod against his chest.

For the past couple of months all he could think about was seeing her again. She'd haunted him since she'd left; the memory of her following him anywhere he went the last two months. And now she was here. In his arms; feeling better than his imagination could ever conjure up.

"Do you...do you think we could try again?" he muttered tightening his arms around her.

She pulled away from him this time and tilted her face up at his. "Try what again?"

"This. We have a connection Carter."

She took a step back from him and confusion marred her features. "What does that have to do with anything? We just agreed to be friends. That's it."

It was his turn to be confused. "What do you mean that's it? Something is going on between us. Something has been going on between us..."

"Nothing is going on between us!" she erupted. "Don't you get it? All we can ever be is friends. Nothing more."

He studied her for a second, his cop face firmly in place. "Why can't we be more?"

She swallowed thickly. "Because it would never work out between us."

"You don't know that."

"Yes I do." This was getting way out of control. It was time to leave. She opened the car door and slid in hastily.

"Running again?" Joe asked sourly as he stood between the door and her chance to drive off.

"I'm not running." she hissed. "I'm late."

Joe wasn't moving though. He'd made a promise to himself that if she'd ever return to Trenton he was going to make damn sure that she didn't want to leave again. "This is not how friends treat each other."

Her eyebrows shot up. "You're throwing the friends card at me?"

"What do you think?"

"I think I'm revoking my friendship if that's the case." she replied.

"Like hell. You can't do that?"

"Why not?"

"It's rude...and unprofessional."

"Well great. That just summed up my personality right there. Now, if you'll excuse me I have to go meet my partner so we can get some work done."

He didn't miss her emphasis on the word _partner_. He took it as a challenge.

Leaning down until he was mere inches from her face he said, "Fine. But this isn't over. I'll let you run this time. But sooner or later you're going to run out of room to hide, and when that happens I'll be waiting."

She stared back at him boldly; her brown eyes flashing. "Thanks for the heads up Morelli, but you're gonna have to catch me first in order for that to happen."

"Is that so?" he asked with a smirk.

They stared at each other for a few tense seconds then Joe leaned in and kissed her fully on the lips. The feel of the pressure and wetness of his mouth on hers sent all of Marissa's senses into a wild tailspin. And when his tongue entered her mouth she latched onto it with a hunger that took both of them by surprise. A low moan escaped from Joe before he broke the kiss.

"Tag. You're it." he whispered huskily before straightening up and closing the car door.

The tingling of her lips stunned Marissa into inaction, and for a few seconds she sat in a daze before the reality of what had just transpired between her and Joe sunk in.

Oh. My. God.

Without sparing him another glance she started the car and drove off leaving a smiling Joe standing in the parking lot.

It was funny how sometimes the most unexpected things had a way of turning out to be so much fun. And Joe was determined to have as much fun as he could with Marissa Carter.

Maybe he might even convince her to play a game of choo-choo.

_**The End**_

**Thanks to everyone who took time out of their busy lives to read my story, review and add it to their alerts and favorites. You guys really know how to make a girl feel special :)**


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